


On Forgetting

by Ewebie



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:32:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ewebie/pseuds/Ewebie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does she do with 2 years missing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... This is an old work. I originally wrote it back in 2007 (So yes, I know some of the political references are rather far out of date). I didn't change any of the story line, but cleaned up an error or two that I found much much later. It starts off nice and clean, but it does build (sorry for the higher rating in the early chapters). I would like to know what you think, more to decide if I'm going to submit any of my other old works...
> 
> Any other works that are multi-chapter from me probably aren't pre-written. This is the only one I'll have a regular posting schedule for, because, well, life.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.  
> ~ ewebie

Langdon groaned. It felt like she was waking up with her head under a pillow, a very heavy, painful pillow. She didn’t rush to open her eyes as her senses began reporting in. She was cold and tired, the faint smell of antiseptic reached her nose, and odd, muffled noises floated around her. And her head hurt. Oh God, did her head hurt. She groaned again and forced her eyes open wide enough to squint. Was that a patterned curtain? Wait, she thought. I know this place. I’m in the hospital? Strong fingers squeezed her hand and she risked turning her head, blinking furiously to bring the face into focus.

“Lang?” The relief in his hazel eyes was apparent as she furrowed her brow. “Jesus, Lang, you had us all so worried.” He shifted his grip on her hand to cup her cheek in his palm.

“Connor?” Her throat felt raw as she swallowed, but she studied his face carefully. It was definitely Connor. He was such a big goofball. Even now, as tired as he looked, his brown hair was mussed just enough to be stylish without being sloppy and he couldn’t keep a smile from turning up the corner of his mouth in the beginning of a grin. Rough and tumble didn’t begin to describe her friend, and she had a feeling that somehow this hospital bed had to do with something he had goaded her into doing. But as glad as she was to see him, she wondered where her best friend was. Where was Katie? She closed her eyes as his thumb ran along her cheek and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you awake again,” Connor whispered.

Langdon regarded him with wide, confused eyes. “Why are you being so weird?” she whispered.

“Langdon!” a voice boomed from the right side of the bed. She started and turned to stare at the stranger in the white coat. Obviously a doctor, she eyed him cautiously, youngish, maybe a few years older than herself, handsome. She shook herself, he’s the doctor, calm down. The doctor smiled at her apparent attention and set the chart down on the foot of the bed. “Let’s see how you’re doing, hm?”

Langdon smiled weakly. Odd that he didn’t introduce himself, she thought as she nodded. He took down her vitals before pulling a penlight from his pocket. “How are you feeling?”

“Um… Ok,” she answered unconvincingly.

The doctor raised a brow. “Ok?”

She feigned innocence. “I hurt.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere?” she offered pitifully.

“And what hurts the worst?” he asked, shining the light in and out of her eyes.

“My head,” she muttered, blinking madly as he finally let her eyes adjust to the room lights again.

“You took a nasty fall. Follow my finger with your eyes.”

Langdon stopped talking to concentrate on his movements. When he had finished, she glanced at Connor. “Fall?”

“Yes, fall.” The doctor began testing her muscles and coordination. “Can you tell me what day it is?”

“Thursday? Thursday morning?”

The doctor smiled. “Friday, but close enough. You were out cold all night.”

Langdon furrowed her brow. “That’s nearly 24 hours.”

“And, can you tell me who the president of Ireland is?” he continued unperturbed by her objection.

“Mary Macaleese.”

“I guess that’s an easy one,” the doctor smiled wryly. “How about the taoseach?”

“Well, it was Bertie Ahren, but the election was last month, and I never can remember that new guy’s name.”

The doctor paused and Langdon could hear Connor’s sharp intake of breath as the two exchanged an apprehensive glance. The doctor turned his attention back to her, meeting her eyes seriously. “President of the United States?”

“George Bush?” Something was terribly wrong, and she could see it on the doctor’s face. She turned to Connor. He attempted a smile but the colour had drained from his cheeks and he looked slightly ill. “Connor?” she squeaked.

“It’s ok, Laney,” he said gently. Laney? Her head spun. No one called her Laney except her family. He raised her knuckles to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand. The sensation made her stomach do flip-flops, which was doing nothing for the spinning in her head.

“What did I say?” she pleaded, turning back to the doctor.

“Give me the full date, Langdon,” the doctor ordered.

“July?” she whispered. “July 29, 2007.”

“She must have hit her head harder than I thought,” the doctor told Connor, speaking as though she were no longer in the room. “The trauma and the cold have this effect sometimes. It should pass soon.”

“What should pass?” Langdon demanded, feeling her face heat. The agitation made her head throb. “What cold?”

“Langdon,” the doctor tried to calm her. “You fell through the ice. In the process, you knocked your head rather hard and suffered from hypothermia.”

“Ice?” she pressed her eyes shut, shaking her head. She could feel her breathing become slightly erratic, but she didn’t care. “What ice? It’s July!”

“Sweetie, calm down.” Connor gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Sweetie? she thought, but the doctor’s voice broke up her train of thought. “Langdon, it’s January of 2009.”

“What?” She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness knocked her back. “No, no, no.”

“Langdon, look at me.” She tried to focus on the doctor but her vision was swimming. “Langdon, it is 2009. You fell through the ice on the Liffey. You hit your head. You are obviously suffering from some mild amnesia.” Langdon gulped air. She could feel Connor trying to soothe her, but it was only grating on her already desperately frayed nerves. Why did he keep touching her like that? “Langdon, you need to calm down.”

“T-two y-y-years?” she stuttered between breaths. “I… I c-can’t… t-two years?” She felt nauseous. She felt dizzy, and cold.

“Laney, it’ll be ok,” Connor whispered, capturing her face between his palms. He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t!” She pushed against his chest, holding him arms length away and staring wildly at his audacity. “W-w… what are you doing?” she gasped. The hurt on his face caught her completely off guard. Over her shoulder, an alarm went off, the electronic beeping causing her to jump. She panted, feeling as though she’d lost her wind. “Can’t…” She huffed. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Langdon,” the doctor pressed her shoulders back into the bed. “Breathe, Langdon!” She could feel her breath coming in short panicked gasps, but she couldn’t control it. Her head swam and she clenched her eyes shut as an oxygen mask pressed over her nose and mouth. She couldn’t get enough air; she felt that she was suffocating. The panic set in and she was hyperventilating. “Langdon!” the doctor barked. When she didn’t respond, he shot a nervous glance to Connor. “She’s going to hurt herself, I have to sedate her.”

Connor gripped Langdon’s shoulders, “Do it.” Langdon felt the rush of narcotic enter her system and everything went from fuzzy to black. Her body slumped on the bed and her breathing slowly deepened into a gentle rhythm.

The doctor pressed a stethoscope to her chest, listening carefully for a few moments. He wrapped the steth around his neck with a sigh. “Let me guess, you two weren’t dating in June of oh-seven.”

A wry smile touched Connor’s lips. “No, we didn’t start dating until after that Christmas.”

“Sorry, man. I should have warned you that this was possible.”

Connor shook his head. “I know as well as you do, Eamonn. It just scared the holy hell out of me.”

Eamonn raised a brow, “Scared you? What about her?” Connor sighed sadly. “And what about me?” Eamonn complained. “I’m her doctor.”

“Yeah, but I’ve met her brothers!” Connor whined. “They’re going to kill me when they hear about this.”

“Nah,” Eamonn grinned. “You pulled her out of the water. You’ll be safe.”

“Sort of.” Connor rubbed the back of his neck absently. “What do I do now?”

Eamonn paused thoughtfully. “Who has been close to her since the beginning of school that could come in?”

“She and Katie were…” Connor trailed off. “Maybe Eoin? He’s always been around. They used to be really close. I’m sure he’d…”

“Have Eoin come in. Maybe she won’t have as tough a time with him here.” Eamonn paused at the door and turned back. “See if he can’t find some pictures or something to show her, maybe jog her memory. And you stay out of sight.”

Connor pouted. “But…”

“No buts. It’s going to take some time to heal and I can’t keep doping her up if you freak her out.” Eamonn grinned. “Doctor’s orders.”

Connor rolled his eyes.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Familiar faces and sad places...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten some positive feed back already. Thanks! I'm going to post each chapter every other day. So... 11 Chapters in 22 days? Since it's only grammatical checks I'm running before I post, it shouldn't be a problem. They get longer as you go... And... more mature themed. And... yes... a bit dark and twisty. Not too dark and twisty, but enough...
> 
> So... Chapter 2... Enjoy!  
> ~ ewebie

The next time Langdon opened her eyes it didn’t hurt as much as the first time. She felt fuzzy, but nowhere near as heavy as before. She blinked the haziness from her vision and turned timidly, afraid of finding Connor still by her side. Instead, a familiar face appeared from behind a newspaper and blue eyes blinked quizzically at her. “Eoin?”

He smiled. “Well, now here I was thinking you’d have forgotten me. How’s things?”

She sighed with relief, “Oh thank God you’re the same.”

A wry grin quirked the corner of his mouth. “I hope not.”

She struggled to sit up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace in kind and let her lean against him when he finally freed himself from the hug. “Are we…” she stopped, unsure of how to continue. Her eyes flickered nervously away from him. “Eoin, Are we still friends like… well, like before?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Actually, I hate you. You’re dead to me, really. Never liked you in the first place.”

Langdon pulled back and took in his blank gaze. She fretted for a fraction of a second before she caught the glint of mischief that shone in his eyes. She laughed, slapped his shoulder playfully, and laughed again. “That’s horrible. You’re not nice at all!”

“You love it,” he told her sarcastically.

“It is you,” she sighed, smiling gently. “It’s nice to have something familiar.”

The pager in his lap beeped loudly and he frowned. “If familiar is what you want, I have some things for you to look at.” He grabbed a stack of albums from the bedside table and set them in her lap. “I have to duck out for a moment. Go ahead and take a peak through those, see if they don’t jog your memory. I’ll be back in a tick.”

“Hey, Eoin?” she called before he could get out the door.

He turned, “What is it?”

“Um…” she ran her finger along the spine of one of the books. “Is Connor… Are we… Um… Did I…”

He smiled at her struggle. It was cute. “Yes. You’re dating Connor. You’re screwing the shit out of each other and driving everyone else mad.” She flushed a dark shade of crimson. “Yeah.” He grinned. “Take a look at the pictures.”

Langdon watched him leave and tried to calm the strange fluttering in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t know who she was; it was just the void of missing information. Which felt so unfair as Eoin seemed exactly the same. But obviously she was not the same person she thought she was. Langdon couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of Connor as a boyfriend. He was just so… Connor.

They had been friends ever since she had arrived in Dublin. He was the goofy, big brother type and a heartbreaker to the core. She had instantly recognised his revolving door of relationships and tried to keep well clear of the fall out from the girls that passed in and out every week. And the one time she had made the mistake of liking one of Connor’s girls, Langdon had ended up as a shoulder to cry on when Connor moved on to another conquest. It had been the only real fight she ever had with Connor, and for a miserable week they refused to speak to each other. Eoin had settled it by handcuffing them together until they worked it out. And working it out didn’t happen until they were about to beat the hell out of each other. Another reason Langdon couldn’t imagine dating Connor: he intimidated her. She couldn’t imagine ever explaining it to Connor, she wasn’t sure she could explain it to herself.

Their activities together tended to be things like studying, practicing clinical presentation, reading, watching movies on her beat up couch, and bickering. They argued all the time about silly things, and that was part of why he felt like a brother. They would squabble, throw food at each other, play wrestle, and end up flopping on the couch and falling asleep before the movies were over. It was normal, comfortable, and totally platonic. She shook herself. Enough. I’ll remember it.

Langdon turned to the photo album and opened the first page, instantly recognising her own handwriting. She traced the lettering with the tip of her finger. “Cycle 1 – the younger years.” The album was filled with events she remembered. The entirety of her first year compiled into a series of collages. Strange that she instinctively understood the comments under each picture, comforting that she recognized the pictures. Finding a picture from the holiday party, she studied the scene she had created with Connor and Katie. With Connor dressed as a tacky Santa, flanked by herself and Katie dressed as naughty elves. Connor was wearing his trademark lop-sided grin, which moments later had become a frown as she and Katie had doused him with glitter. She smiled. It had been a great year. But things she remembered wouldn’t help bring back what was missing. She pulled out the second album and began turning the pages, blinking at the images of herself that she couldn’t place.

 

~o~

 

Eoin returned from his page and dropped onto the bench next to Connor with the heavy sigh of an overtaxed medical intern. “She’s awake if you want to see her again.”

Connor frowned. “Does she remember the past year and a half?”

“No.”

Connor sighed.

“I gave her that stack of her albums to flip through. Maybe she’ll remember something.” Eoin watched Connor carefully. “Connor, she’ll remember.”

Connor ran a hand through his dark hair. “And until then, I do what? Go back to being her friend?”

Eoin snorted. “Yeah, keep it in your pants for a few days.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he snapped.

Eoin laughed. “Calm down. I know what you meant. Just… be there for her. Even when she starts to remember, it will be hard. Give it time and don’t push her too hard.”

“EOIN?” Langdon’s voice carried out into the hall. Eoin smiled wryly and stuck his head around the doorframe.

“Done with the books already?” He glanced back to Connor and winked. “You remember anything neat?”

Langdon furrowed her brow. “Not really. I was just wondering… Well, I don’t want to yell it.”

Eoin nodded and stepped into the room, moving to the bedside. “What’s up?”

“I don’t remember any of this,” she gestured to the pictures that were spread in the albums on the bed.

“Lang,” he laughed. “You have to give it time. You’ve only been awake for an hour or so.”

“No, I know, but,” she rubbed the middle of her forehead absently. “But, why don’t I have pictures of Katie after last Christmas?” Eoin froze, but Langdon continued oblivious to his sudden tension. “I mean, we’re at everything together until here,” she flipped to the class Christmas party from their second year. “But then, nothing. Did we have a fight or something?”

Or something, Eoin thought as he shifted from foot to foot. “Lang.”

She looked up, eyes wide like a child. “Is that why she hasn’t been in to see me?” Connor appeared at the door, having heard the conversation, he couldn’t stay out on the bench any longer. Eoin glanced at him, and Connor shook his head. Langdon glanced at Connor. “I mean, did she drop out? Or go home? Or… are we just not friends? Do you think she’d come in to see me anyway? I just really want to talk to her.”

“Laney,” Connor’s voice was pained.

“Connor?” she raised her eyebrows, the confusion and honest hurt on her face.

Eoin sighed, “She’ll find out someway or another.”

“Don’t,” Connor pleaded.

“Eoin?” she turned her gaze to him.

“Lang, Katie…” Eoin looked down at his feet. “Katie was hit by a drink driver, back about a year ago.”

“What?” Langdon sucked in a deep breath. Connor dropped on the bed beside her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She spun, startled. “Is she ok? What happened?” Connor winced. “Connor?”

Eoin swallowed hard. “No, Lang. Katie… Katie’s injuries were too extensive. She coded in the ambulance and died on the table.”

The colour drained from Langdon’s face. “What?”

“You were in theatre when she came in and Prof sent you away. There was nothing they could have done.” Eoin shook his head. “It was…” he couldn’t finish.

Langdon felt her throat close. “She…” The words caught and died in a gasp for air. Langdon had the distinct impression that she was drowning and fought to breathe. “Katie… No.”

Connor held her, “Sshh, Laney, it’s alright.”

“NO!” she screamed and thrashed free of his hands. She pushed away from his chest and blindly punched at him as hard as she could. “That’s not true!”

Connor allowed her to hit him again before catching her wrists and pulling her back up against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Laney.”

“No,” she whimpered, breaking down into sobs. He rested his chin on the top of her head and rocked her as she shuddered through the tears, feeling her fingers twist at the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Eoin whispered.

Connor shook his head sadly. “It had to happen.”

Eoin nodded, jumping as the pager on his waistband went off again. He looked up; “Are you going to be alright here?” When Connor nodded, Eoin gave an apologetic shrug, and left the room quietly.

Connor buried his lips in Langdon’s hair and ran his hand soothingly up and down her back. Eventually she cried herself into exhaustion and Connor wove his fingers into the curls at the nape of her neck, tracing invisible patterns along the sensitive skin. She sighed softly and sniffed. He pulled back and gazed down at her tear stained face.

She was not the type of woman that looked beautiful when she cried. Her nose turned red and her face was puffy. It made his heart twist; it somehow physically hurt him to see her cry. She sniffed again and forced a watery smile. There was something so beautiful and vulnerable about her at that moment, her mahogany waves unruly around her face, the bittersweet shine of her green eyes, even the blotchy pink tearstains on her cheek. Connor couldn’t help it. He leaned in and pressed a kiss gently against her lips.

He felt her tremble slightly, surprised perhaps, and eased the kiss deeper, parting her lips with his tongue and sliding it into her warm mouth. She let out mewing noise before he felt her tense and push him away. Her face flushed a charming shade of pink and he smiled. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I keep forgetting that it’s weird to you.” He pulled her back into a warm hug, holding her close, but in a relaxed and comforting manner.

“You keep forgetting?” She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing, trembling from the grief and the strange fluttering in her stomach. “Connor?”

“Hm?”

“Tell me something good.”

“Something good?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Not everything since then could have been bad. Tell me something good.”

“Aside from the fact that I get to kiss you all the time now?” he joked.

Langdon punched him lightly in the arm. “Come on.”

Connor pondered her request, knowing that what he said would desperately affect their interaction until her memory returned. After a moment, he smiled. “Your older brother was married in August.”

“Married?”

“Yup. Married. To that girlfriend you liked so much.” He felt her relax further into his embrace, settling comfortably in his lap. “You were the maid of honour. The dress was a pale green, about the shade of your comforter cover. And I know it’s rather uncool to say, but you looked more gorgeous than the bride.”

She flushed. “You were there?”

He grinned and met her inquisitive glance. “Well, yeah. We had been dating for around six months and you thought it was a good time to introduce me to the family.” If it was possible for her to turn a deeper shade of crimson, she did. “It was fine. Your brothers took me out to a hockey game and made sure I was up to scratch. Your mom and your aunt showed me baby pictures and were laughing so hard at each other I’m pretty sure they were crying. And your father and I watched the Patriots play and had a drink. I survived with all my limbs.”

Langdon released a chuckle. “Sounds like you did better than most guys.”

“That’s because I am better than most guys.” He leaned down, his breath tickling her ear and drawing a shiver from her body, “And I even got to sleep in your bed, Laney.”

Her eyes widened. “My parents let you?”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I’d like to think it was because they liked me so much, but I’m sure it was because there was no where else to put me with all the other family in town.”

Langdon straightened and eyed Connor. “So, we?”

A wicked grin wove across his face. “We?”

“Have we?” Langdon cleared her throat.

“Have we what?”

She felt her face heat. “I can’t believe I’m dating you,” she muttered.

Connor leaned forward until his face was an inch from hers, and Langdon’s breath caught in her throat as she pulled back on impulse. Connor followed, inching forward until Langdon was trapped with her back against the pillows. He didn’t kiss her, not exactly, but his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “I could give you quite a few reasons why we’re dating,” he murmured seductively.

Langdon pressed her eyes closed as his closeness wrapped around her, from the heat of his body to his unique smell that was decidedly male; it was intoxicating. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or scared, but for her friend to behave this way was downright unnerving. “Please stop,” she whispered.

Connor grinned, and she could feel his breath on her face. “If that’s what you really want.” His fingers grazed just below her ribs and she jumped, sucking in a breath. The movement pressed her lips against his. He kissed her lightly and pulled back, glancing at the heart monitor that had steadily picked up pace over the past few moments. He winked at her when she opened her eyes, then sat back in the chair. Langdon drew the blanket up around her, frowning. “You can’t say you don’t feel the chemistry,” he joked.

Langdon chewed on her lower lip. “That’s not fair, Connor.”

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “I know,” he said sincerely. “I just,” he sighed. “This isn’t easy for me either, Laney. I’m willing to entertain just about any idea that pops into my head right now if it stands even the remotest chance of bringing back something from the past few months.”

“When,” she looked down at her hands. “When did we start dating?”

“When I finally got to stop chasing you,” he smiled. She furrowed her brow. “Officially, it was February of last year.”

“So, almost a year ago?”

He nodded. “I was after you for ages.” He ducked his head and gave her the look of a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Langdon found it irresistible. He knew she loved the boyish side he had, and he abused it. He gave her puppy dog eyes and she just melted. Maybe it was unfair that she didn’t know she’d told him, but all is fair in love. “I don’t really know when it happened,” he admitted, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. “But there was this one day that I remember looking at you and I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.”

Langdon blushed. “Really?”

He nodded. “You saw right through me. You always have.”

“You’re not that hard to read,” she argued.

“I am a deep and complex man,” he shot back with a grin.

“So you played your best cards, and I resisted. I can see that.” She crossed her legs beneath her and toyed with the blanket.

“How is that so easy to see?” he demanded indignantly.

“Connor, you go through women like some people go through paper towels. It’s like a flavour of the week with you.”

“I used to go through women like… Like what you said. Used to.” He rubbed the back of his neck absently. “Once I caught you, I haven’t looked at another female in nearly a year.” Langdon narrowed her gaze. “Yeah, I know,” he chuckled. “It sounds crazy, but it’s true. Ask Eamonn, or Eoin.”

“So, you stopped chasing, because?”

“Because you stopped running.” He laughed.

“Why?”

He sobered, and met her eyes seriously. “I don’t know. You never told me.”

“I never said why I liked you?” she looked worried.

“Liked?” Connor snorted, then grinned. “You love me.”

Langdon suppressed a smile. “Ok, so, if I never explained myself, why did we start dating?”

Connor leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. “You know how we would sit and watch movies?”

“Sure.”

“We would sit, and you would lean against me, and it would be fine. But then you’d get tense suddenly, and move to the other side of the couch. It happened every time.” The side of his mouth drew up to the side.

Langdon chewed her lower lip. “You noticed that?”

“Yeah,” he sighed watching her carefully. “I never said anything, but I always knew. One day, you just didn’t pull away.”

“When was that?”

“It was just after Katie died.” He rolled his eyes at her frown. “No, I didn’t do anything then. It actually just surprised me. You let me hold you. It was… wonderful.” He smiled softly. “I loved it. There was something that felt right about it.”

“So we started dating, because I sat next to you when we watched movies?” Langdon twisted her fingers together. “I don’t get it.”

“No,” Connor grinned. “We started dating the night you jumped me.”

“What?” she squeaked.

Connor nodded, the smile on his face reminiscent of that night. “Surprised the hell out of me, I’ll tell you. It was a weird night, to say the least.”

“That doesn’t really sound like me,” she whispered, playing with the folds of the blanket.

“I know,” he told her seriously. “You changed a little after Katie died. It’s hard to say exactly how, but you were just… different. You didn’t laugh as easily or smile so broadly. You stopped talking as much. Anyone who didn’t already know you didn’t come to know you anymore. That’s why you and Eamonn broke up.”

“Eamonn?” Langdon shook her head.

“Oh… shit,” Connor whistled. “Yeah… Eamonn.”

“Who’s Eamonn?”

“You know that red-headed doctor that was in here before?” Connor asked, raising a brow. Langdon nodded. He raised his brow higher. When the confusion didn’t leave Langdon’s face, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“No,” a look of surprise passed over her face. “I dated my doctor?”

“Actually, you dated your boss.”

She looked horrified. “No, I didn’t.”

“You dated him, and dumped him,” Connor told her flatly.

“And you’re letting him treat me?” she demanded. “I mean… He gave me a narcotic. And, and he would have done a physical exam. And…”

“And he had already seen you naked, so there’s no need to worry about that. You and Eamonn are friends. Eamonn and I are friends. It just wasn’t there between you two, and you wouldn’t let him in. You gave him a few glimpses of that temper of yours and he’s counting his lucky stars that he’s not the one for you.”

Langdon blushed furiously. “Why? That… That’s not me.”

“I told you,” he said softly. “It wasn’t you.”

She dropped her head and stared at her hands. As the silence filled the room, she worried a small laceration on the side of her hand with her thumb. It was strange; there was a long, thin scar that wrapped from between her thumb and forefinger toward her wrist. Even her hand looked a little different. I guess I don’t even know the back of my own hand, she thought wryly, tears inadvertently springing back to her eyes. Connor leaned forward and disentangled her hands. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb carefully over the wound. “What are you thinking?”

She released a strained laugh. “It’s weird, you know. You know more about me than I do, and I don’t normally…” She sighed. “The last conversation I remember having with you was about underwear and beer and double daring me to stay in the freezing water at the cove for half an hour.”

Connor gazed thoughtfully at her before a smile touched his lips. “Oh yeah.” He chuckled, “I remember that.”

Langdon stared at her fingers engulfed in Connor’s large hand. “I don’t remember us ever really talking like this before. I mean really talking. I remember talking about anything other than what was important.”

“Foreplay,” he grinned.

She bit back a laugh. “The weird thing is that this doesn’t feel strange. Does that make sense?”

Connor pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Yes, it does.” He met her eyes seriously. “Langdon, I’m not going to lie to you. You still have pretty high walls, and a tight reign on what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. I don’t know everything that you’re thinking. I may know better than other people, but I don’t know it all. I spoke to your mom, and she’ll be here in two days. She knows you better than I do, and I hope she can help fill in the gaps. But really, you don’t let anybody that close anymore. If it wasn’t for your journal…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing. He sat up suddenly and slapped his forehead. “You’re journal! I’m an idiot.” He smiled as a frown marred her face. “You still keep a journal. It’s normally on the nightstand.” He glanced at his watch. “Visiting hours are over soon. I can stay a few more minutes, but then they’re going to kick me out.” Langdon tightened her grip on his hand, surprising herself. It wasn’t her normal reaction. Connor smiled gently. “It’s late, and you need to rest.”

“I was resting all day,” she muttered petulantly.

He grinned. “You were drugged, it’s not the same. Besides, I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

“What am I supposed to do?” she whined as Connor stood.

Connor leaned over her, and she felt her stomach clench as his face stopped only inches from hers. “You,” his voice dropped into a low growl. “Have a lot on your mind.” His lips brushed hers, sending a shiver down her spine. “Try to sort out some more recent things, hm?” He pressed his lips to hers, slowly, tenderly kissing her. He pulled back and watched her eyes flutter open again, tracing the lower border of her lip with his thumb. “No rush though.” He grinned. “I think I’m going to enjoy reminding you of certain things.” He left Langdon blushing furiously on the bed.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things come rushing back... While others remain hauntingly distant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said every other day... It's already written... I'm a terrible person. My apologies for anyone that's been waiting! I'll post ch 4 tomorrow for all you patient souls! Again... it's old, but I love it.  
> Enjoy!  
> ~ ewebie

_Connor dumped his bag on the bench and scanned the crowd gathering in the large hospital foyer. The pack of familiar faces made him smile. It was good to be back. They hadn’t had much time off for the summer, but thankfully, their clinical rotations hadn’t started until October. Now they were facing their final year as students, their final year as a class, and their final year before becoming “real doctors” and having to make real decisions with real responsibility. It was a scary prospect, but if anyone was ready for it, it was this rowdy hodgepodge class. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, he had missed the class. So many familiar faces._

_Now there’s a new face, he thought, catching sight of a brunette moving through the crowd. Well, not so much a new face. He couldn’t see her face from where he was standing, but he could certainly appreciate the view. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something in her walk that was horribly alluring. It was sexy without trying to be. Not overly feminine, not over done, just amazingly tempting, and he couldn’t look away. He exhaled sharply as an energetic redhead collided with his chest, hugging him emphatically._

_A giggle erupted from her. “Heya, Connor!”_

_He grinned, returning the hug. “Katie. How was your summer?”_

_“Fantastic!” She bubbled. Her eyes darted over his shoulder and a wide smile stretched across her face._

_As suddenly as she was there, she bounded off into the crowd. Connor raised a brow and turned, following her path through the people. He froze when Katie embraced the brunette he had been watching. “Not fair,” he muttered, stalking toward the pair. “Katie,” he dropped a hand onto her shoulder. “I thought we knew the rules. You’re supposed to introduce me to any cute frie-” His words dried on his tongue as the brunette turned to face him._

_Langdon smiled. It was a broad, clean, and terribly amused smile. “Connor.” She nodded._

_“Lang,” his face turned a dark shade of red. Katie giggled as she watched the exchange. It was just like Connor to put his foot in his mouth. “I uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey…”_

_Langdon laughed. “Hi, Connor, have a good summer?”_

_He looked up and scuffed his shoe, noting the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Yeah… You look fantastic,” he whispered. “I um,” he shifted nervously. “I’m going to go over there, where it’s less embarrassing for me.”_

_Katie chuckled. “See you round, Connor.”_

_That was unfair, he thought to himself as he retreated from the girls. That was totally unfair. The last time he’d seen Lang was the swim at the cove. I mean, yeah, she’d lost a bit of weight before that day and he’d happily taken note. But what happened to Langdon over the summer? I mean, she was, well, not chubby really, but she wasn’t… He stopped himself before he could say gorgeous. That was so unfair._

 

Connor awoke with a start and instinctively reached across the bed. He groaned when his arm closed over empty sheets as he remembered that Laney was still in the hospital. Now, that is truly unfair, he thought, running a hand through his hair. And that whole embarrassing moment in his life had happened well over a year ago. What an odd thing to remember.

 

~o~

 

Langdon was restless. The remnants of various drugs slowly worked their way out of her system, leaving her irritable and strangely anxious. She tossed and turned, unable to find a restful position in the foreign hospital bed. Something was missing and she could not get comfortable. Sighing, she punched the pillow and curled up on her side, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.

 

_The train rocked gently as it pulled from the station and Langdon bit her lip, staring out the window. Connor snickered. “You having second thoughts already?”_

_Langdon rolled her eyes, “Are you kidding? You’ve talked about this for ages.”_

_He laughed. “And you’ve been looking for a way to cop out of it ever since you first agreed.”_

_“You’re so full of it!” She threw her newspaper at him._

_“No, you’re full of it.” He rolled the captured newspaper and tapped her knee a few times._

_She raised a brow. “That’s an intelligent comeback.”_

_He smacked her a little harder with the paper. “You’re in a sassy mood.”_

_“Me?” she wrinkled her nose. “ You’re the one hitting me with a newspaper.” He mischievously smacked each of her arms. “Stop it!” He hit her multiple times before she could get her hands on the paper and tear it away from him. “You’re so annoying.”_

_He made a grab for the newspaper that she dodged easily. “Aw, come on. Give it back.”_

_“No.” She sat on the paper and crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out._

_“Child.”_

_“Idiot.”_

_“Brat.”_

_“Bully.”_

_“Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way,” he mused. “Lang, you’re just the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” The poor southern accent he affected had the corners of her mouth twitching. “Yer jes like my mama’s pecan pie.”_

_“Yeah, how’s that? Nutty enough to be around you?”_

_“Hush you. How are things with that Andy guy going?”_

_Langdon frowned. “They aren’t.”_

_“Oh,” Connor glanced nervously out the window. “You want to talk about it?”_

_Langdon gave an undignified snort. “Do you want to talk about, what’s-her-name, Nadine?”_

_“Point taken,” he muttered. In the ensuing silence, Langdon shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Connor watched her, a small smile playing across his lips. He quickly relocated to the seat next to her and draped an arm across her shoulder. He leaned in close, crowding her against the window and whispered conspiratorially, “Nervous, Lang? It’s ok if you want to back out.”_

_His proximity earned him an elbow to the gut and a dirty look. “Cold doesn’t bother me, Connor. Lest you forget, I’m from the northern, icy tundra of America’s Midwest.” She flapped her hands in exasperation. “Plus, it’s not even cold outside. It’s the middle of July! I don’t care how cold this water is, it can’t be worse than cutting a hole in 3 foot thick ice and jumping in that.”_

_“If it’s not the cold, then what has you so worked up that you’re squirming in your seat?” he tried to suppress a smile, but it failed. Langdon met his eyes briefly then tried to cover a blush by turning back to the window. “Oh, come on, Lang,” he poked her playfully in the ribs. “Now I’m curious.”_

_“It’s nothing,” she shook her head._

_“It’s not nothing, tell me.” He poked her again._

_She tried to catch his hands, “Damnit, Connor!”_

_He caught both of her wrists in one large hand and grinned. “Guess what, Lang. I’m bigger that you are, and I can do this all day.” He poked her a few more times before tickling her mercilessly._

_Langdon squirmed, fighting to pull her hands free, and burst out laughing. “Stop, Connor. Stop!”_

_“Tell me what’s bothering you.” He reached her armpit and she nearly jumped out of the seat._

_“You’re bugging me!” she squeaked between gasps._

_“Oh come on,” he tickled her stomach, laughing at the way she squirmed. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going for your feet,” he threatened._

_“No!” She sucked in a breath, “Fine, I’ll tell you!”_

_Connor laughed with satisfaction, and sat back in the seat. “Whenever you’re ready.”_

_Langdon straightened her tee-shirt and pulled her hair back into its neat ponytail. “God, you’re so annoying.” Once she was back in control of herself, she frowned at Connor. “It’s really not a big deal.” She squeaked as Connor reached for her sides again. “No, wait!” She sighed, “Ok, you know how the airline lost one of my bags when I came back after Christmas?” When he nodded, she continued. “Well, among a few other things, that bag had my bathing suits in it. And, well, I haven’t gotten around to getting a new one.”_

_Connor leaned forward, a look of fascination on his face. “Tell me you’re going in naked.”_

_“No.” It took a good deal of self-control not to reach across the space between them and smack him upside the head. “I just… I’ll be wearing underwear.”_

_“See through underwear?” He grinned._

_“No.”_

_“Maybe some lace that’ll show a little nipple?”_

_“No. Connor…”_

_“I know! White underwear. Brilliant!”_

_Langdon groaned. It was going to be a long train ride._

_An hour later, Langdon stood cautiously at the edge of rock jetty staring at the roiling seawater below. She glanced back at Connor who stood, arms crossed, waiting for her to go first. According to Connor, it was her lot to go first, not because he didn’t trust her to jump, but more because he just didn’t trust her to jump. She frowned. “Are you sure this is safe?” she shouted over the sound of the waves._

_“Lang, we’ve been over this before. Yes, it’s safe. No, there are no rocks down there that you’ll hit, just jump out as far as you can.” Connor reached her side. “If I were you, I’d be more worried about the trying to stay in there for ten minutes than the getting in. Don’t disappoint me again, Lang, ok?” He gave her an once-over. “You had me all excited that you’d be in your underwear, and I’d swear that underwear covers more than any bathing suit I’ve ever seen. Now get your ass in the water.”_

_“You’re buying the beer after this, right?”_

_Connor laughed. “Whatever beer you want.”_

_“Even if I’m drinking Guinness?”_

_“Yes, even if you insist on drinking Guinness. Hell, I’ll splurge and buy you a whiskey if you want one.” Connor crossed his arms back over his chest. “Now go.”_

_“You’re coming in right behind me?” she asked cautiously._

_“Lang, I swear to God, I’m going to throw you in…”_

_“No need,” she grinned. She took one last look below and stepped back from the edge. She wanted a running start. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Connor about the rocks, but she wanted to put some distance between herself and the edge of the breakwater. “See you in the drink,” she winked at Connor, and leapt off the edge. Mid air, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes just before she hit the water._

_The impact knocked the air out of her lungs as she plunged deep into the sea. Langdon kicked toward the surface, her skin already felt like it was burning from the cold, and the shock of the temperature had her heart beating at a rate that could only be described as absurdly and unhealthily fast. With one final kick, she broke the surface._

 

Langdon sat up and gasped for air, her eyes darting around the darkened room. It took her a moment to remember where she was before sinking back against the pillows of the impossibly uncomfortable hospital bed. Beside her, the heart monitor was gradually slowing to a normal level, the beeping becoming a soothing noise. Langdon shivered; she was freezing. Connor had been right; that water was ridiculously cold. Not nearly as cold as the water back home in the dead of winter, but absurdly cold for a warm July day and a ten minute swim. What did happen once I was in the water? Langdon racked her brain for the rest of the memory, but came up blank. That was it, she thought. That’s the last thing I remember. Jumping into that ice cold water…

It made some strange sense to her. Falling into the frozen Liffey must have reminded her of before. But that was a year and a half ago. Langdon shivered again. She suddenly felt very lost and alone.

 

~o~

 

Langdon dropped her journal in frustration. Connor looked up from his seat at the bedside. “What’s wrong?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t remember this!”                                              

“Langdon, babe, you need to give it time.” He took the journal from the bed.

“That’s all I have, Connor. Time. I’ve nothing to do but sit here and stew over the fact that I don’t remember it.” She dropped her head back against the pillow. “And it’s just creepy reading things that I’ve written when I don’t remember it.”

“I can see why that would be weird.” He frowned slightly. There was little reason for her to stay in the hospital any longer. Come to think of it, it was strange that she hadn’t raised the issue herself. He settled on the edge of the bed. “Can I do anything?”

Langdon shook her head miserably. “I need something else to think about.”

Connor used a finger to tilt her chin up. He flashed a mischievous smile and pressed his lips to hers. “I can come up with plenty of things for you to think about,” his voice soft and deep.

Langdon chewed on her lower lip. Normally Connor’s proximity would have terrified her, but for the first time it felt right. “I’ll make you a deal,” she whispered.

She didn’t pull away. She was holding her ground. A thrill ran through him, part hope, part excitement. He couldn’t resist the temptation of putting his hands on her. One hand rested on her hip, the other played with a loose strand of her hair. “What kind of a deal?”

“I will think about these other things,” she tapped his chest with a finger. “If you spring me from this hell hole.”

Connor almost exploded with laughter, almost. This was the Langdon that he knew, and thank god she was back. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a certain appreciation for this vulnerable Laney that he was getting to know, but he missed her sass. He missed the playful banter, the fire, and frankly, the aggression. And now, here was a little of that spark trying to strike a deal with him just to get out of the hospital. He barely kept control, and couldn’t keep the corner of his mouth from quirking. But he didn’t give her back her space just yet. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Langdon’s composure faltered slightly. “Please, Connor. I can’t stand it here. There’s nothing to do, and it’s depressing, and I’m sick of it.”

“And what would you give me if I spring you from this jail?”

“Hey, Connor, I need help with this pat…” Eoin glanced up from the doorway and had the courtesy to look contrite for interrupting.

Connor groaned and dropped his forehead against Langdon’s shoulder. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he muttered. Langdon blushed and giggled nervously. Connor flopped into the chair next to the bed and cleared his throat. “Ok, Eoin, you’re here, I can’t fix that. What are you looking at?”

Eoin shook his head. “We, Connor. You may be taking the next few shifts off, but these are your patients too.” Eoin dropped the chart in Connor’s lap and perched on the edge of the bed. “And we’re looking at something that I can’t figure out.”

Connor skimmed the admission records and notes. “So, 19 year old male, presented to A&E, spiking fever, night sweats, chills, headache, nausea… Tell me you started him on rifampicin for bacterial meningitis.”

Eoin nodded and rubbed his forehead. “I did, and he got better for about five days, but it all came back. Plus the lumbar puncture came back clean.”

“What about the blood cultures? Microscopy?” Connor asked.

“We’re still waiting on a few of the cultures, but so far, nothing. I looked at the H&E stain myself and didn’t see anything.” Eoin sighed. “It’s ugly, man. I think he’s getting a rash.”

“What about drug allergies?”

Eoin stood and started pacing. “None.”

“Foreign travel?”

“He was home for Christmas.”

“Where’s home?” Connor asked.

Eoin waved his hand absently. “One of those M-states in the US.”

“Massachusetts?” Connor raised a brow. When Eoin shook his head, Connor tried again. “Maine? Missouri? Mississippi?”

“Montana,” Langdon interrupted softly. “He’s from Montana, isn’t he?”

Eoin perked up. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“It’s Borrelia reccurentis.” When they both blankly stared at her in silence, she continued. “Relapsing fever. It’s cyclic because of the antigenic variance. Plus, it’s louse or tick borne. He probably went camping and picked it up at his cabin.” Both of the men continued to stare, and Langdon shifted uncomfortably. “I’m right, I know it.”

Connor handed the chart back to Eoin. “Put the kid on penicillin,” he said softly. “He should be improving by the morning.” Eoin nodded slowly, collected his papers and headed for the door.

“Oh, and don’t worry if his vitals take a dip initially. It’s Jarisch-Herxheimer. It’ll be gone in a few hours,” Langdon called out before Eoin could leave. Eoin glanced back with a strange look on his face, nodded and left the room.

When she turned, Connor was studying her intently. “How did you know that?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Western US, ticks, recurrent fevers… It just makes sense, right?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “But how did you KNOW that?”

“I’m not sure. How do we know anything?” she asked, unnerved by Connor’s sudden intensity.

“Laney, that’s final med contagious disease material,” he raised a brow. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “We learned that just last spring, so how did you remember that?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “It just popped into my head. I don’t remember learning it, but I know it all the same.”

Connor leaned forward keenly. “What else do you think we could dig out of your mind if we tried?” Langdon chewed on her lip and shrugged. Connor relocated to the bed, settling just in front of her. “Can I try something?”

Langdon searched his face cautiously before nodding. “As long as it won’t hurt.”

A wide smile stretched across his face. “It won’t hurt a bit, I promise. Just trust me, ok?” When Langdon nodded again, Connor carefully took her face in his hands, barely touching her cheeks with his fingertips, and studied her eyes for several moments. “Anything?” he asked softly.

Langdon shook her head. “What exactly am I supposed to be doing?”

“Relaxing,” Connor ordered. “Watch my eyes.” Langdon licked her lips nervously and met Connor’s intense stare. She watched the hazel in his eyes become more defined with his proximity, seeing the dark green fade into chocolate brown at the edges, pulling out the strange amber flecks that shone gold at times. He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear; Langdon blushed down to her toes, but couldn’t tear her eyes from Connor’s. All the colours blended so wonderfully and were framed by dark lashes that were just shy of being feminine, but created a stark contrast against his lightly tanned skin. She didn’t jump when his fingertips slid back toward her hairline and her face was cupped between his palms, but the heat that radiated through his skin warmed her to the core and trickled down deep into her belly.

“Anything?” his voice was gravelly, thick, sexy. Langdon couldn’t answer, she barely found the coordination to shake her head. But then she was staring into his eyes. Those eyes were consuming her. God, she’d never noticed it before, but Connor was gorgeous. Dark brown wavy hair, to match the deepest brown in his eyes; a strong, solid jaw line; a greek nose; the body of a god; Langdon couldn’t breathe. Connor was hot. He was sexy. He was… He was kissing her?

Langdon sucked in a breath as his lips feathered across hers. He kissed her, softly at first, holding her as if he were afraid she’d pull away. As his fingers wove into her hair, cradling the back of her neck and pulling her closer, Langdon let her eyes flutter shut and her sigh was muted by Connor’s mouth. One of his hands wandered, caressing the exposed skin of her neck, her collarbone, and her arm before finding the small of her back and pressing her firmly to his chest.

A small knot of tension began to build in Langdon’s stomach as the room began to spin. She clutched at Connor’s arms, holding tight to the solid stability he exuded. She moaned again and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue between her lips, flicking playfully against hers. As she let her tongue tangle with his, Connor released a groan from deep within his chest. Langdon fought against an aggressive urge to pin him down and have her way with him right there on the hospital bed. And from the increasing urgency of his roaming hands, she didn’t think Connor would mind one bit.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped Langdon from her trance and she pulled back from Connor, breathless and blushing furiously. “If that’s Eoin, I’m going to kill him,” Connor breathed.

Langdon peered over his shoulder and swallowed hard. “Mom?”


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home sweet home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand... Number 4.  
> Enjoy!  
> ~ ewebie

Connor ran a nervous hand through his hair and paced in front of the couch. He glanced around the small living room for the millionth time that afternoon. Laney was coming home today and he wanted it to be perfect. He’d scrubbed the flat from floor to ceiling, he’d cleaned the sheets, made the bed, cooked dinner, hell, he’d even ironed his shirts. He groaned and dropped onto the couch and rested his head in his hands. Langdon’s mother would be dropping her here once all the paperwork had been finished at the hospital. He’d be relieved once Langdon was home where she belonged, but Connor’s stomach turned at the thought of facing her mother again.

All things considered, the conversation could have been much, much worse. Thankfully he’d met Laney’s mother before she walked in on him mauling her daughter. That hadn’t stopped her from giving him a scolding the likes of which he hadn’t heard since he’d been a teenager. He’d borne it, mostly because he deserved it. He was manipulating Laney, he was pushing her to remember things too quickly. But what the hell else was he supposed to do?

The sound of his mobile phone made him jump, and he was on his feet to answer it in a flash. “Hello?”

“Connor?”

“Laney? What’s wrong?” He started pacing again.

“Well, Connor. My mom and I were heading back into town, but I… I don’t know where I’m going.” He could hear her laugh nervously. “So, um, where do I live?”

Connor chuckled and gave her directions. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so nervous about her coming home. Even if things weren’t perfect, it didn’t matter; she’d be back home.

Dinner went well. After spending the past day and a half with her daughter, Laney’s mother had softened her view of what had happened in the hospital room, and she and Connor had struck a truce of sorts. They had decided that it was in Laney’s best interest that she sleep in her own bed and spend as much time as possible around normal settings, so she would be staying at home with Connor, rather than the hotel with her mom. Further, Laney’s mother was needed back home sooner rather than later. She intended to see her daughter settled, comfortable, and functional, but hovering wouldn’t benefit anyone. Her mother headed back to the hotel early in the evening, and Connor took the opportunity to give Laney a tour of their flat, just to remind her where everything was.

In the dead of winter, the sun set by five o’clock, leaving seven o’clock as dark as midnight. And though Langdon was a little tired, she wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. Connor suggested they relax a little and watch a movie. Langdon thought it was a fine idea, letting Connor pick a dvd from their shelf. He pushed play and settled back on the couch, cradling Laney’s head in his lap as she stretched out under a blanket.

As the teaser blended into the opening title sequence, Laney twisted to look up at Connor. “I think I’ve seen this.”

Connor grinned. “You have,” he whispered conspiratorially. “We went to see this on a date.”

Something like pride reflected in Connor’s eyes when he looked down at her, and Langdon felt herself grow warm under his gaze. “Oh,” she gave him a contented smile and turned back to watch the movie.

She found it hard to keep her eyes open for very long. The combination of the long day, the wonderful food Connor had prepared, and the calming sensation of his fingers stroking idly through her hair gave her a sated feeling that left her eyelids heavy. Giving into the sentiment, she let her eyes drift closed. But only, she told herself, for a moment…

 

~o~

 

_Langdon pushed play on the DVD and cracked the top on her can of soda. She flopped back onto the couch, ignoring Connor’s sprawling limbs. He huffed indignantly until Langdon handed him the other can of soda. “You know, if you weren’t so lazy, you’d spend less time thirsty with nothing to watch,” she chided._

_Connor grinned and tapped her arm playfully. “Why should I move if I’ve got you to do it for me?” Langdon punched him and he laughed. “See, I even get a massage out of it.”_

_Langdon groaned. “You’re such a child.”_

_“Shh, I’m trying to watch this movie.” He winked, ignoring her annoyed expression._

_Langdon snatched the pillow from under his arm, punched it a few times, and plopped the pillow in his lap before dropping down on it. Connor oofed in response, but he was used to the abuse. Langdon watched the opening credits, but even as the movie began, she couldn’t quite get comfortable. Connor was tense, she could feel it, and it was trickling down to her. She knew him well enough to know that it wasn’t tension from class, and Connor had been single since Jessie so it couldn’t be girl troubles. It bothered her that she didn’t know what was bugging him. She shifted again and felt Connor’s hand come down on her hip. “Sit still, you’re driving me nuts,” he chided._

_Langdon removed his hand and frowned. You’re driving me nuts, she thought, and stop touching me. “You are much more fun when you’re soft and squishy, not tense.”_

_Connor toyed with the ends of her hair where it lay across his thigh. He didn’t think she could feel it, but he loved the texture of the strands falling through his fingers. The corner of his mouth pulled up in a wry smile. “No guy is more fun when they’re soft and squishy.”_

_Langdon shot up and gave him a dirty look. “Connor!” She punched him in the shoulder. Why did every conversation turn to sex recently?_

_“I’m just saying,” he held up his hands._

_Langdon huffed and flopped back into the other corner of the couch. It took every ounce of self-control not to crack a smile. It was funny, and the picture Connor painted was of pure mischief. “You and your dirty mind.” She crossed her arms and turned back to the screen._

_“Oh please, I’m no worse than you, and you know it.” He patted his thigh. “Come on, I’ll behave.”_

_No you won’t. “I’m more comfortable over here.” She used him as a leg rest, propping her calves across his thighs._

_“Excuses, excuses,” he muttered studying her from his vantage point._

_Langdon blinked, the look in Connor’s eyes startling her. She felt heat flush through her body, leaving a pleasant cloying sensation in its wake. She was suddenly possessed with the idea that she didn’t want Connor to behave. She felt her cheeks colour and quickly turned back toward the TV. “Shh, I’m trying to watch this movie,” she threw back at him and pretended to be absorbed in the movie. He frowned and turned back to the screen._

_It felt as though the closer he got to her, the harder she was pushing him away. If he was honest with himself, it pissed him off that Langdon didn’t even seem to know how he felt about her. He had been damn near celibate for four months. He’d been using the excuse that he was taking his time getting back on the horse, but in truth, Jessie had dumped him because of Langdon. Well, dumped him because he wouldn’t give up his friendship with Langdon. Jessie had been right, though. He didn’t want to be friends with Langdon, he wanted more. And he was willing to spend as much time as it would take to convince Langdon that he had the right idea. Why didn’t she just give it a shot?_

_He sighed heavily. It wasn’t her fault at all. He hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything about the feelings he had for Langdon. She treated him like a friend and he responded like a friend. He shot a glance at Langdon, surprised to find her watching him suspiciously. “Why the heavy sigh, Connor?” she asked softly._

_Connor shrugged and played with the hem of her jeans where it lay across his lap. “Just thinking.”_

_“I knew I smelled something burning,” she chuckled. Connor’s attempt at a stern glare failed miserably when he caught sight of her grin. He sighed again and gave a wry smile. Langdon found it suddenly hard to breathe. For the second time that night, she saw a glimmer of heat darken Connor’s eyes. She couldn’t look away. The smile on her face faltered as she blushed again, and reflexively wet her lips._

_The hopelessly pink tip of her tongue peaked out from between her lips and Connor felt blood pooling in his groin. He tensed, his fingers wrapping around Langdon’s ankle convulsively. As if shaking himself out of a spell, he blinked and cleared his throat, glancing nervously at the tv. “I, um…” He stood, replacing Langdon’s legs on his vacated seat. “I’ll be back in a minute.”_

_Langdon sat up and watched Connor hurry from the room. She stopped the movie and stared absently at the blue screen, processing the recent sequence of events. There was no way that Connor was interested in her, was there? She rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted; she was imagining things. But the more she thought about it, the harder it was to shake the idea. Sure Connor had his flavour of the week girls, but hadn’t he been single for a few months now? And what had been his excuse? She sighed, he had been giving nothing but excuses. Not that many of his girls had liked her. Then there was her recent string of boyfriends to consider. Save for Eamonn, he had been down right hostile to all of them, and even with Eamonn, he was never very supportive. But then, Connor was just protective of her. He didn’t want to see her hurt._

_He had been so careful with her after Katie had died. He had kept her company, comforted her, helped her through the break-up with Eamonn, he spent most of his spare time with her. No, he spent all of his spare time with her. Langdon frowned, shit. Connor was totally interested in her. But how did she feel about him? He was such a goofball, but he was reliable; he annoyed the hell out of her, because he knew her better than anyone; he never seemed to talk much, but he knew all of her dirty little secrets; and he was so touchy-feely, but seemed to know when she didn’t want anyone touching her, and then he’d pester her until she let him give her a hug… Langdon groaned. How could she have been so thick? She could see interest like that from a mile away when it happened to anyone but her._

_Connor let out a nervous laugh from the doorway and shifted from foot to foot. Langdon met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Better?”_

_“Uh, yeah. Fine.” Connor flushed slightly. “I had to pee.”_

_Langdon felt the corner of her mouth quirk. As blind as she had been to it before, it was now as plain as the nose on her face. Connor had it bad, and he was utterly transparent. She took in the sight of him, dark hair ruffled as though he’d been running his hands through it, the corners of his eyes crinkled in laugh lines as he tried to grin away his nerves, his button down shirt cuffed and open at the collar, and his socks… Langdon almost had to laugh; he was wearing brightly striped red, yellow, and blue socks. He was admittedly quite handsome, but the socks made him adorable. Her gut reaction to his presence only confirmed what she was thinking. Maybe Connor had the right idea. She patted the couch next to her. “Come on, I want to watch the end of this movie.”_

_If Connor was surprised that Langdon leaned back against him as they settled in to watch the movie, he kept it to himself, but he could hardly stifle a groan as her fingers traced small designs on his knee. The last time she had seemed so comfortable cuddling with him, he’d all but shouted for joy. It had only taken four years of their friendship before she seemed relaxed, truly relaxed. He sighed, rested a hand on her hip, and hunkered down on the couch for the rest of the movie._

_Langdon toyed with various ideas while the movie played, before finally assuring herself that she knew what she was doing. “Connor?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“It’s getting kinda late, do you mind if I crash here tonight?”_

_Connor shrugged. “Sure, you know you can always stay here. Robby’s out of town too, so you can sleep in his bed if you want.”_

_Langdon frowned. “I don’t want to sleep in his bed.” She turned to face him, pushing herself up onto her knees. “I’d probably catch an STD from the bed alone.”_

_Connor tried to suppress a smile. “He’s not that bad.”_

_“I hope you don’t wash your sheets with his. You’d have cooties too.”_

_He tweaked her nose. “Fine, you want to sleep on the couch, that’s your call. I just thought the bed would sound more comfortable.”_

_She wrinkled her nose. “What if I told you I don’t want to sleep on the couch either?”_

_Connor narrowed his eyes. “Then where would you sleep?”_

_Langdon caught him by surprise, straddling his lap and effectively pinning him to the corner of the couch. She rested her palms on his chest and watched his face through lowered lashes. “Maybe I want to sleep in your bed.”_

_He froze, staring down at her hands where they made small folds in his shirt. The heat running through her palms felt as though it would burn through his skin, and it would be a miracle if she didn’t notice the pounding of his heart. He cleared his throat nervously, “Then where would I sleep?”_

_Langdon gazed intently into his eyes for several moments before a seductive smile gradually spread across her face. “Why would I want to sleep in your bed if you aren’t in it?” He swallowed convulsively and managed a weak smile, freezing again as her hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Her confidence wavered momentarily. Speechless is one thing, but immobile was something else entirely. She waited for a sign that he wanted this as much as she did, but there was none to be had. Langdon tightened her jaw for a moment before giving back in to her impulse. “Oh, Fuck it,” she whispered and leaned in to kiss him._

_At first as her lips feathered across his, Connor remained motionless, stunned first by her forwardness, then by her swearing. But as her lips pressed against his, coaxing them open, it dawned on him that what he had been dreaming of had just landed in his lap. He groaned and reached for her, pulling her firmly against his chest, and sliding his hands down the planes of her back. Her tongue flicked along the crease of his lips and he eagerly welcomed her into his mouth, before taking it upon himself to explore the depth of hers. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and slipped beneath it, exploring the silky skin of her back and sides._

_Everything Connor did felt so right. His hands were warm and knowing, his lips like fire against hers, his tongue demanding. Langdon moaned, wrapping a fist full of his shirt in her hand in an attempt to keep her balance. Then Connor was pushing her away. He held her shoulders at arms length, watching her face closely._

_Langdon blinked, trying to reengage her brain to understand what had just happened. Connor was staring at her cautiously and she stiffened. “What?”_

_Connor shifted. “Lang,” he cleared his throat. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”_

_Confusion and pain flashed across her face before she could disguise it behind an emotionless mask. She spun away from him and moved to the far end of the couch, digging on the floor for her shoes._

_“Lang, what are you doing?”_

_She could hear him sit up behind her, but she refused to turn around and face him. “What does it look like I’m doing, Connor? It’s late, I’m going home.” She muttered a curse as her shoe refused to cooperate. “Just as soon as I can get my damn shoes on.” She jammed her foot into one of the sneakers and stooped to tie the laces._

_“Lang, don’t leave,” he rested a hand on her shoulder._

_She shrugged him off. “You made yourself quite clear, Connor. My pride can only suffer so much in one night.” She fumbled with a knot in the lace of the second shoe. “Why the fuck won’t this untie?”_

_“Lang, stop.” Connor reached around her to take the shoe._

_“Hey! Damnit Connor!” She tried to snatch back her sneaker, but he was faster than she. He caught her wrists against her chest and pulled her into the curve of his body. “Let go!” she snapped, fighting to free her hands._

_“Calm down, Lang.” He tried to soothe her, but she didn’t still. He let her fight out some of the emotion, holding her firmly in his arms. “Langdon Ellish Murphy, listen to me,” he said firmly. Langdon released an exasperated grunt of resignation and dropped her shoulders in defeat. “That’s better,” he sighed. “Look, Lang, before you go rushing off and ill-wishing me to the high heavens, just listen.” He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Damn. Lang, every time I’m around you, you manage to completely catch me off guard. You can’t expect me to always keep up with you and that mind of yours. You happen to be a bit smarter than me.”_

_Langdon sighed, “I made a mistake, alright.”_

_Connor shifted her wrists into one hand and slid his free palm across her stomach. She sucked in a breath at the sensation. “It wasn’t a mistake, Lang,” he whispered._

_“If it wasn’t a mistake, then what?”_

_Connor released her suddenly and turned back toward the tv. “I don’t know, Lang, what if it doesn’t work out?”_

_She frowned, “What if what doesn’t work out?”_

_“You and me,” he sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you and I certainly don’t want to lose you as a friend.”_

_“Connor,” she rested her cheek against his shoulder blade and slid her arms beneath his, resting her palms on his chest. “You won’t lose me as a friend.” She nuzzled the curve where his neck met his shoulder. “Look, I’ve dated friends before, and though it can be weird, we’re good enough friend’s it won’t go away.”_

_“If it doesn’t work…” He shook his head._

_“What if it does work?” she kissed the side of his neck. “You can’t tell me you haven’t hoped for this. And I’ve never been so sure of something.”_

_“I want y-… I want to take care of you, but…”_

_Langdon huffed impatiently. “I’m a big girl, Connor. I can take care of myself.”_

_“I just don’t want to hurt you.”_

_“Then don’t,” she insisted. Connor shifted away again and ran a hand through his hair. Langdon felt as though she’d been slapped in the face. “Fine,” she said angrily, trying to cover the hurt that crashed through her with the rejection. She turned, intent on leaving. Enough was enough, and if he couldn’t sack up, she was gone. She wasn’t the type of person to throw herself at someone and she certainly was proud enough that the dismissal left a bitter taste in her mouth._

_“No, Lang,” he reached for her, but she scooted further down the couch in search of her still missing shoe._

_“Fuck you, Connor,” she spat reaching down for the sneaker on the floor. Before she could blink, she found herself on her back, Connor looming over her, pinning her to the couch. “Get off!” she shouted, trying to throw him. She managed to hook his leg with her knee, and pulled, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Langdon managed to land on top of him, but couldn’t scramble up fast enough. In a flash, Connor had her pinned to the floor. “Damnit, Connor!”_

_He tightened his grip on her wrists. “Why do you keep trying to run away?”_

_“Because you’re being an asshole!” she kicked out her legs, but couldn’t get him to budge. “There are worse things than it not working out, you fool.” Langdon struggled to keep from crying. “But if you want to wallow in your misery of want, fine.”_

_“That’s not what I want!” he yelled back._

_“If I’m not worth it, just say so!” she snapped, her eyes glistening with unshed tears._

_Connor stared down at her, the look in his eyes unreadable. Langdon felt her face grow red, and the heavy breathing roused by her struggles was overly loud in the ensuing silence. “Is that what you think?” he asked softly._

_“What else am I supposed to think?”_

_Connor softened, concern showing clearly on his face. “Oh God, Lang. I’m sorry. That’s not it at all. I never wanted you to feel that way.” He was completely unaware that he was still pinning her wrists to the floor. “Lang, I wouldn’t survive losing you. I lo-… I love you, and it scares the holy hell out of me. Because I don’t care if you don’t feel the same.”_

_“You sure have a messed up way of showing it,” she muttered._

_Connor smiled wryly. “I never said I was perfect.”_

_The smile was her undoing. He was completely irresistible when he looked like that – just like a kid who was caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Langdon tried to move her arms, itching to touch him, pull him closer, to run her fingers through his hair, to kiss him. He grinned when she started pouting. “Oh shut up and kiss me already.”_

_“Only if it’ll shut you up,” he purred, lowering his mouth to hers._

_He was so careful, cautious with his kiss that Langdon groaned in frustration. She could feel the barely restrained hunger that ran through the tension of his body. Even as he tried to pull away, she wouldn’t let him, following him, letting her tongue steal between his lips, exploring him, tasting him. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and ran her tongue along the captive flesh, releasing it with agonizing slowness. “Come on, Connor,” she whispered. “I’m not going to break.”_

_He groaned, her words wearing on his tenuous control. “You’re not going to run away again if I let your hands go, are you?”_

_“Are you going to give me a reason to stay?” she cooed._

_This time, when his mouth met hers, the caution was gone, eclipsed by the hunger he could no longer restrain and the passion left her toes curling. His lips were hot and demanding against hers, his tongue delving into her mouth without mercy. As he released her wrists, he shifted his body, sliding between her parting thighs and wrapping his arms around her. Langdon’s moan was swallowed in another earth shattering kiss. She wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, holding him to her. Connor traced a line of kisses down her neck, pausing on a particularly sensitive spot just below her jaw as one of his large palms rose to cup her breast. She gasped and arched into his hand. Connor propped himself up on one elbow to watch her face, lazily tracing ever shrinking circles around breast, enjoying the catch in her breath every time he came close to brushing the nipple. “Connor,” she whined._

_A smug grin crossed his face and the look in his eyes sent a rush of heat through her body. He looked so attractive it was sinful. Langdon caught her breath as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, slowly inching the material upwards. His eyes didn’t leave hers as his lips grazed her stomach. It was the lightest of touches, but she felt a ball of tension coiling in her stomach. Connor smirked again, a terribly self-assured grin that should have pissed her off, but his lips slowly caressed their way higher along her stomach and she found herself digging her nails into his shoulders as she clung to him._

_Her shirt bunched at the armpits. Connor growled and sat back on his heels. He pulled her up, as he knelt between her legs, and tore her tee-shirt up and over her head. Langdon’s dark curls tugged free of their tie and spilled over her shoulders, the chocolate brown contrasting sharply with her fair skin. Connor reached forward and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. A blush began to spread across her chest and up to her cheeks as he raked her with his eyes. As he leaned back against the couch, he tugged on the lock of hair, bringing her with him, settling her astride his loins. He ran his palms along her thighs to her hips, squeezing gently before exploring the gentle curve of her waist, stopping finally to run his thumbs along the underside of her breasts. Drawing her forward, he brushed his lips along hers._

_Langdon sucked in a breath. Every touch was so light, too light. Her lust was screaming for aggression. It felt like every one of her nerve endings was straining for the next sensation. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder next to her bra strap, sliding the strap down her arm with a finger. “It strikes me,” he said softly kissing the edge of her collarbone. “That you are wearing far too many clothes.” His palms rested flat on her back, one pressed against the small of her back, holding her firmly against him. The other inched up her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it to the side before his fingers tangled in her hair, holding her still as his mouth descended upon hers._

_Her hands fisted in his shirt as her body went up in flames. She was fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get at his skin as both of his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs feathering over her nipples. She released a frustrated whimper and yanked the last few buttons open. Connor chuckled against her lips, allowing her to finish removing his shirt before rolling her beneath him. He removed her pants faster than she could react and she arched into him where he ground against her. The delicious tension that had been building in her grew to desperate levels._

_Connor’s mouth left hers, blazing down her neck to the valley between her breasts. Langdon held her breath, willing him to put her out of her misery. His mouth hovered over her nipple for a moment, and she squeaked her protest. He flicked at the tip of her nipple with his tongue and she cried out, arching uncontrollably. He dropped his weight down on her as he drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking, licking, nibbling. Langdon thrashed, the sensation of emptiness inside her becoming unbearable. “Connor, please,” she begged._

_“Be patient, Lang.” His mouth moved to her other breast, his hand replacing the void, tweaking, massaging, pinching. He felt her leg hook around his calf and almost groaned._

_“Please,” she cried. “Connor, please.” Her fingernails dug into his back, leaving small crescent marks. Connor slipped his hand beneath the waist of her panties, appreciating the satin texture before rifling his fingers through the thatch of curls. Langdon bucked against his hand, wordlessly urging him on._

_He slanted his mouth over hers as his finger slid between her wet folds. She was hot, and tight, and the sensation alone almost brought Connor to cum in his pants. He plunged into her, adding a second finger as she rocked against him. She pulled her mouth away from his, burying her face in the crook of his neck. His thumb found her clit and she jumped, her entire body going rigid. He could feel her sheath tighten around his fingers and she bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming._

_Langdon was completely on fire. Every muscle in her body spasmed as bright pinpoints of light exploded behind her eyes. Connor slowed the movement of his fingers, gently stroking her as her body began to relax. She blinked the haze from her eyes as he brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead. “God,” she breathed softly, releasing a shaky breath._

_Connor grinned and kissed her cheek, enjoying the sound of her sigh. “That, Lang, was remarkable. I had no idea you’d be that sensitive.”_

_She shook her head. “Neither did I.”_

 

~o~

 

She felt his hand squeeze her shoulder and she opened her eyes. Sleep bleary, she squinted at the TV, realizing that the movie credits were rolling. Laney half turned to where he had stretched out on the couch behind her. She stifled a yawn, blinking up at Connor’s smiling face. “I’m sorry,” she rubbed her eyes. “I guess I fell asleep.” He laughed, pushed himself up, and turned off the video. She opened her eyes again as he squatted by the couch. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she pouted.

He smiled again, resting a hand on her shoulder, “I know you didn’t.”

She sighed as she felt his hand rub her shoulder. “You could have woken me.”

“Aw, but you look so cute when you’re sleeping.”

“That’s not creepy.”

He tweaked her nose and she wrinkled it in response. “Besides, you were so tired, there was no way I would wake you.” He ran his fingers through her hair and she cooed softly. He groaned, “Don’t do that, or I might not let you go back to sleep right away.” Laney recognised the lust-darkened look in Connor’s eyes, and the memories she had gave her reason to blush. He cleared his throat and seemed to collect himself again. “Come on, I’ll put you to bed.”

Laney found that she liked his idea of ‘putting her to bed.’ Freshly showered, in a clean tee-shirt and old pair of sweatpants, she sat on the edge of the bed as Connor carefully bandaged the cuts on her shoulder and knees. She allowed him the task only because he had offered to help her in the shower so many times, it was all she could think of to keep him out of the bathroom.

“I still have trouble believing the ice was strong enough to give you these cuts. This one on your shoulder looks deep enough to be from a dull knife.”

She glanced at the gauze now covering the wound. “Ice can be sharp, Connor.”

He taped the end of the gauze down and kissed her shoulder. “There, all better.”

Langdon blushed and gave a laugh. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweet pea.” He leaned in to kiss her lips, only to pull up short as she stiffened. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Force of habit.”

Laney blushed again, toying with the hem of her shirt. “It’s ok. It’s just still weird.”

Connor’s understanding was a miracle all things considered, and for it, Langdon was grateful. “Come on,” he said softly, lifting the blankets for her to climb in. “Bed time.”

“You promised to behave,” Langdon reminded him as she slipped between the sheets.

“Yeah, I know.” Connor slid in behind her, tucking the blankets up around her chin then pulling her towards him until her back was cradled in the curve of his body. He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re home,” he whispered, realizing how reassuring it was to be able to hold her again; though he was quite sure it would be a long time before he fell asleep.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad to be home too.”

Even as he found himself relaxing, he could tell she was still tense. “Laney, what’s wrong?”

Her small fingers traced weaving patterns along the back of his hand for a moment before she stilled completely. “Connor?”

“Hm,” he asked softly.

“How exactly did I end up falling in the river?”


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apprehension and appetizers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok... so... this is where I had let the story go somewhere totally unplanned. Which... I both love and hate. It changes the tone entirely. So... I know it happens. And I know it's clumsy at best. But I can't bring myself to change it. I hope you keep enjoying it!  
> ~ ewebie

Langdon paced around the flat. She had been home from the hospital for five days and she was starting to grow bored. No, she shook her head, bored didn’t encompass the feeling. She was feeling discontent, agitated, stir-crazy. Dismissing Eamonn’s advice to ‘take it easy,’ she had been waking up at an ungodly hour with Connor and while he went to work, she went for runs in the morning. The longer the run, the better she felt, until yesterday. She had been running for a good half hour. Crossing a small side street, a careless driver had nearly clipped her. It had startled her, shaking her from the zen of the run. Once she had calmed down, it slowly dawned on Langdon that she had no idea where she was. And while she did make it back to her flat, it took nearly two hours and the help of a number of shop owners. As a result, she shied away from a run this morning. Instead, she kept herself busy around the flat.

She had cleaned and re-cleaned everything in sight and even everything out of sight. She had pulled everything out of her closet, cataloguing in her mind the different clothing she found, the shoes, and the boxes of photos and knick-knacks. It seemed she only owned work clothes and gym clothes now. No tee-shirts, one pair of jeans, everything could be worn to the hospital or to church. At least she seemed to have decent enough taste in wardrobe.

Even once she had finished in the bedroom, Langdon had continued rifling through every other room in the flat. The room that she and Connor shared as an office was lined with books, some of which she recognised. She flipped through a few of the unfamiliar titles only to find her hand writing in the margins. Oddly enough, the topics struck her as familiar. Reading a random paragraph on the treatment of Reye’s syndrome, she had the strange impression that she could predict the next sentence or two. Slightly unnerved, Langdon abandoned the medical books for the tv. Maybe she would watch a movie.

The sitting room held numerous framed photos, both her family and Connor’s, their friends, their class pictures, graduation pictures, and one small frame filled with the Christmas picture of Katie and she dressed as elves and Connor as Santa. A sharp stab of pain and loneliness struck right in the pit of her stomach. She missed Katie. If anyone could understand, could help her through this, it’d be Katie. With a forlorn glance at the picture, Langdon decided she didn’t want to sit still. She wasn’t going to be able to sit at home all day for much longer.

Dismissing the idea of a movie, Langdon turned to the last refuge she could find – the kitchen. When they had just been friends, she’d been pleasantly surprised at Connor’s skill in the kitchen. She loved the fact that Connor could cook, and she enjoyed puttering in the kitchen as much as he did. They tended to compromise on the odd evening they shared a meal; he’d cook dinner and she’d bake dessert. She was much better with desserts and Connor tended to happily eat much more than his fair share of her baking. She opened and closed each of the cupboards a few times to get a sense of what was available before deciding what to make. Then she threw herself into cooking, not stopping to think until she slid the dish of lasagne into the oven.

She was in the process of drying her hands when a knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She frowned and opened the door cautiously, peeking outside. “Paul?”

Paul Cavatoni stood on her doorstep with his hands in his crammed in his jean pockets and a guilty look on his face. One of the older guys from her class, Paul always looked as though he was doing a poor impersonation of James Dean. “Hey, Lang. Mind if I come in?”

She shook her head, “No, not at all,” and stepped back, allowing him to pass over the threshold. As far as she could remember, Paul had never been a close friend. A friend, sure, but not close. There was always something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Then again, he was from Jersey, and she had more than one ex-boyfriend from the Garden State. He probably just reminded her of one of them. After a few moments of silence, Langdon shifted awkwardly. “Can I get you something?”

“No, no,” he answered quickly. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing.”

Langdon sighed and smiled. “I’m doing ok, thanks. Come on, sit down and I’ll get a coke or something.” She gestured to the couch and headed into the kitchen, returning with two cans of soda.

Paul accepted the offer and smiled. “Are you really doing alright?”

“Is this you asking? Or is this the whole class asking?” she asked wryly.

Paul laughed. “You know everyone knows and everyone is worried. That’s the problem with being in a small class. We’re all up in each other’s business.”

“I’m doing ok, Paul. And you can bring that back to whomever you see at the hospital.”

“And if it’s just me asking?” he met her eyes seriously.

Langdon frowned. “I… I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, look, I don’t know how close we are, and I’m really not trying to be rude, but it’s just weird to think about it without knowing about... You know…”

“It may be none of my business, Lang. But…” he rested a hand on her shoulder. “What happened?” The startled look on her face caused him to back pedal. “I mean, I know you… you fell in the Liffey, but how did it happen?”

Langdon glanced down at where her hands lay in her lap, her brow wrinkling. “I don’t know, Paul. I don’t actually remember it. I’m missing a huge chunk of time.”

“Is that why you’re taking time off?”

Langdon nodded. “Physically I’m fine. A bump or two here and there, but that’s it. There are things that I know how to do, but I don’t really remember stuff. So, for now, they want me to take a break.”

Paul gave her shoulder a squeeze. “So you’ll be back with us soon, then?”

Langdon forced a smile. “I guess. I just… Never mind. Thanks, Paul. How’s the hospital?”

Paul grinned. “It’s the same old, busy, mundane, overwhelming place.” He glanced at his watch and gave a beleaguered sigh. “The same place I have to get back to. I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Langdon shook her head. “No, Paul, it was nice of you to stop by. I wish I could offer you dinner, but it won’t be ready for a while yet.”

Paul laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll be having us over for dinner parties again anytime now.”

“Dinner parties?” she raised a brow.

Paul looked confused for a moment before he understood her question. “Oh, um. Yeah, you and Connor have people over for dinner all the time. You know, dinner parties. It’s really quite civilised of you.”

“Oh,” Langdon shook her head and gave a short laugh. “Yeah, then I’m sure we’ll have you over for dinner soon.” She stood to follow as he walked toward the door. She leaned against the open doorway as he started down the hall. “Hey, Paul?”

He turned, “Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming to see me.”

“No problem.” He shoved his hands back into the pockets of his jeans and headed down the stairs.

Langdon turned back into the flat and closed the door. Somehow, she couldn’t shake a very strange sensation of apprehension. She leaned against the closed door, letting her eyes flutter shut. Was it going to be that awkward with everyone she knew? What about people she’d met after that day at the cove? She wouldn’t know them from Adam. She heaved a sigh and contemplated curling up for a nap, but the timer on the oven sounded and she rushed into the kitchen, hoping she hadn’t burned dinner.

A few hours later, Connor groaned as he dropped unceremoniously onto the couch, draping his forearm over his eyes. Langdon looked up from the newspaper he had brought home and gave him a smile. He looked worn-out, sleepy, ruffled, and yummy. As tired as he appeared, there was something about him wearing a suit that tweaked her heart. “Long day?”

He groaned and nodded. “You know how crappy the Out Patients rotations are.” Langdon winced, but said nothing, turning back to the paper in her lap. She wanted to get back to work, but every time Connor said anything about his days, it merely reminded her of how little she remembered. Connor groaned again, “Oh God, Laney, I’m sorry.” Though her cheeks coloured slightly, she didn’t respond. He reached across to her chair, dragged the paper from her hands, and pulled her onto his lap.

She released a squeak of protest as she tumbled, rather ungracefully, into his arms, and flailed. “Damnit, Connor! What are you doing?”

He settled her in front of him, pulling her back against him, catching her wrists and pinning them to her chest. “What do you think I’m doing?” he nuzzled her neck. She shivered as he kissed the exposed skin behind her ear. “And more importantly, do you really want me to stop?” Her breath caught in her throat as he closed his teeth gently over her earlobe. It was so hard for her to think when he did things like this. She let out a sigh against her will and he chuckled softly against her neck. With his laughter, the awkwardness and embarrassment rushed back, and she stiffened. Connor felt it and gave himself a mental shake. She wasn’t ready for this. Ugh! He thought. I’m such a clumsy fool. He released her and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head, before shifting her to a vacant seat on the couch. Langdon eyed him warily for a moment. It was like emotional whiplash dealing with Connor. He forced a smile and tousled her hair. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“You… Keep forgetting?” Langdon furrowed her brow in consternation. She tried to glare as Connor realized what he had said. An honest smile stretched across his face and he tilted his head to the side. It reminded her of a golden retriever when he did that. He looked like a lost puppy. She couldn’t keep the good humour from quirking the corners of her mouth. As her resolve faded, the silence disappeared into their laughter. “Do you want me to remind you of why Out Patients is horrible?” he asked wryly.

Langdon nodded. “Would you like something to eat first?”

The smile spread further across Connor’s face. “Only if you made it.”

“I was bored,” she murmured. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to make you some dinner.”

“Only if it didn’t put you out any to slave over preparing my food.”

She grinned, “I was hungry too.”  She jumped up and dashed into the kitchen, retrieving flatware and a large plate of food from the microwave. Handing it to Connor, she settled on the couch and resumed her reading.

Connor pulled the short coffee table close to the sofa and settled himself on the floor in front of Langdon. “This smells fantastic,” he whispered. Langdon smiled, but allowed Connor to eat in silence.

Finishing the meal, Connor released a contented sigh, leaned back so his head was nearly in her lap, and smiled at Langdon. It was a goofy, lop-sided grin. “Laney, that was fantastic.” He patted his stomach. “My belly and I are glad you haven’t lost your touch in the kitchen.”

“I started cooking long before I came to medical school, Connor,” she scolded him slightly, softening her words by the play of her fingers in his hair. “I’m pretty sure I could survive on my twenty plus years of experience with food.”

Connor tilted his head back so he could see her. “Oh yeah? And just when did you learn how to make spinach-ricotta vegetarian lasagne with pine nuts?” Langdon started at him blankly. “I’m guessing you used just a bit of gorgonzola?” he pressed.

Langdon nodded slowly. “Well, yeah. Some gorgonzola to give a bit of flavour.”

Connor grinned. “It’s my mom’s recipe, Laney.”

She blanched. “Your mom’s?”

“Sure. When you found out how much I love it, you insisted she teach you how to make it.” Connor shifted to lay his cheek against her knee. “And you make it just as well as she does.”

“I’ve met your parents?” she whispered, mortified.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Connor’s chest. “Graduation, Laney. They were here for graduation.” Langdon let out a frustrated grumble and dropped her head into her hands. Connor was up at her side in an instant. “Hey, none of that,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear and allowing his fingers to linger along the curve of her jaw. When she finally turned and met his gaze, he smiled. “Quit beating yourself up, Laney, it’ll come back.”

She sighed. “You know, Paul came by today.”

“Paul?”

“What’s that face for?” Langdon furrowed her brow. “He wanted to see how I was doing.”

“Nothing, I just didn’t think you two were that close.” Connor rubbed her back gently, “He just wanted to say hi?” Langdon nodded. “Well, that was nice of him, I guess.” He wrapped her in a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Anything else good happen today?”

“You mean, aside from me feeding you?” She nudged him playfully in the stomach.

He oofed in response and laughed. “My stomach definitely thinks that’s a good thing.”

“Tell me about Out Patients and why you hate it.”

“You hate it too,” he muttered. “It’s just the patients, and the complaints. You get sick of it rather quick. ‘Doc, my cough is back.’ Gee, are you still smoking? ‘Doc, I can’t seem to lose weight.’ Well, are you still eating McDonalds every day?” He sighed and held her tighter. “There’s just a grind that gets you down after a day of it.”

“So,” she rested her head back against his shoulder. “If you’re so cynical, why do you do it at all?”

“We both do it for the same reason.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “OP may be rough and annoying, but it’s only a small part of it. Every day that you’re on the wards, there’s just something that drives you.” He shrugged, “I don’t know. There’s something about the work that’s a little addicting.”

She sighed. “I miss it,” she whispered. “I don’t know what it is exactly that I miss, but I know I miss it. How long until I can get back in?”

“How about tomorrow we go have a chat with Prof?”

“Really?” She practically bounced from the couch, turning to straddle his lap. “Really?” she asked again.

He laughed. “Really. Tomorrow’s Friday, so you probably can’t get back in until Monday. But you seem to know how to do everything you need, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t let you start again.”

She grinned. “Really really?”

“Really really.”

“I could kiss you!” She grabbed his face between her palms and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. He groaned slightly as she pulled away. When his eyes opened, she flushed under the intensity of his gaze. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“On the contrary,” a grin quirked the corner of his mouth, “I quite enjoyed that.” She blushed a deeper shade of red and shifted to move off his lap. His hands rose to capture her hips.  “Oh, don’t move on my account.”

“Connor,” she chewed her lip nervously.

“Just,” he captured one of her hands. “Just wait a second. I won’t do anything too drastic.” He raised her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “If you want me to stop, tell me to stop, ok?” Langdon nodded, watching him nervously. Connor grinned again and turned her palm over in his hand, raising it to his lips again and pressing a kiss to the heel of her hand.

Langdon felt the blush creep down her neck and across her chest, a warm tightness forming in her belly. Connor’s lips began a slow path up her wrist and along the inside of her forearm. When he kissed the soft side of her elbow she giggled, the tickling sensation too much for her. “What’s so funny?” Connor asked with a warm chuckle in his voice. “You aren’t ticklish are you?”

Langdon shook her head. “No.”

He nibbled along the crease of the joint. “No? You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

She squirmed. “No.”

“Hm?” his hands grazed her sides and she convulsed with laughter. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish.”

“No!” she laughed, trying to catch his hands. She missed and he pulled her close, trapping her against his chest and tickling mercilessly. “No fair!” she squealed and tried to pull free, only finding relief when he stopped.

“Is it unfair that you’ve told me before that you’re ticklish?” Connor’s breath on her neck made her shiver. She pulled back far enough to attempt glaring at him, but it failed when his fingertips trailed down her spine. She let out an eep and squirmed. “Because you’re ticklish just about everywhere.”

“Where are you ticklish then?” she tried to get a rise out of him, sneaking her fingers under his arms.

Connor raised a brow with a smug look on his face. “Who said I was ticklish?”

Langdon stuck out her tongue and reached for his neck. “You have to be ticklish!”

He chuckled, and another flick of his fingers had her jumping. “I do not.”

She growled with frustration and tried his sides.  He grinned and traced a line up the side of her neck. “Ack!” she tried to defend herself by bringing her shoulder up to her ear, but only trapped his hand against her neck. “Not fair!” She bit her lip to keep from shrieking. Glaring, she dropped her hands to his stomach. Everyone’s stomach was ticklish.

Connor flinched and snatched her wrists away. “Oh, no you don’t.” He pinned her hands behind her back.

“Hey!” She twisted her wrists where he held them in one large palm. “You liar! You are ticklish.” She gasped as he renewed his tickling in earnest. Struggle as she might, she couldn’t seem to free her hands and she started laughing so hard that she had trouble breathing. “Stop it!” she laughed, burying her face against the crook of his neck. “Connor!” Connor’s chuckle bubbled from deep in his chest, but he didn’t stop. Langdon turned her face against his shoulder and bit his neck. She didn’t bite hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to startle him.

“Gah!” Connor held her at arms length, frowning, but his amusement shone clearly in his eyes. “Did you just bite me?” Langdon giggled and shook her head. “You little liar,” he grinned. “You are in so much trouble now.” He flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the couch. She took the opportunity to free one of her hands and tickled his stomach. He convulsed reflexively and drew back sharply, the movement causing him to lose his balance. Connor tumbled to the floor, landing on his back with a thud.

Langdon scrambled up, pressed a hand to her mouth and stared at Connor where he sprawled on the floor. “Oh, Connor, I’m sorry.” He propped himself up on his elbows and glared. Langdon struggled to suppress a giggle. “I didn’t mean to…”

“You are in so much trouble,” his voice was rough, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

“It was an accident?” she offered, picking up a pillow and holding it as a shield.

Connor slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position. “First, you bite me.” He rolled to his knees then rose to his full height. “Then you push me off the couch?”

Langdon shrank back against the couch. “I didn’t mean to?”

Connor straightened his shirt. “And then you laugh at me?” He couldn’t keep a smile from quirking the corner of his mouth.

Langdon saw it and flushed. “It was funny?” Connor leaned forward, and Langdon shrieked out a laugh, scrambling over the back of the couch. Connor took off after her, chasing her into the bedroom. Langdon put the bed between them, giggling. “Oh, come on. You’re the one that tickled me first.”

Connor lunged across the bed, reaching for her. Langdon dodged and dashed for the door. But Connor recovered faster than she expected, catching her around the waist and tossing her down on the bed. “And you’re the one that lied about being ticklish.”

He pounced on her, and they rolled across the bed. They play wrestled, limbs entwining and bodies meeting until Connor took advantage of his size and pinned her down. He gazed down at her, his hazel eyes darkened to liquid chocolate with desire. “I think,” his lips brushed against hers. “That a tongue lashing may be in order.” Langdon’s breath caught in her throat as his lips descended on hers.

 

~o~

 

Paul stared at the rapidly waning level of beer in his pint glass. There was nothing like a shit day at work to make him want a drink, but today’s need extended beyond work and beyond want. He needed to drink until he couldn’t feel feelings. He signalled the bartender, and a few moments later, a glass of whisky appeared beside his beer.

He jumped as a hand landed roughly on his shoulder. “Did you get it done?”

Paul frowned and glanced around the dim snook he had settled into. No one was near enough to hear the conversation. He took a deep swig of beer before speaking. “It doesn’t need to be done.”

The man slid into the seat opposite him, glaring. “Of course it needs to be done.”

 Paul shook his head. “I was there, she doesn’t remember a thing. She’s down more than a few days, man; it’s months.”

The man leaned forward, his size intimidating even to Paul. “I don’t care what she does or doesn’t know. People remember things, and don’t want her alive long enough to remember.” Paul opened his mouth to object, when he felt the muzzle of a gun press into his stomach. “And I assure you, if she stays alive you won’t. Do I make myself clear?”

Paul nodded quickly and felt sweat breakout along his forehead. “Crystal.”

The man tucked the gun back into a coat pocket and rose, straightening his coat with a brisk motion. He nodded once to Paul and strode casually from the pub. Paul waited for the door to close in the man’s wake before releasing a pent up breath. “Shit,” he muttered, and drained the glass of whisky.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On first dates...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's number 6. I'm getting back on track with the every other day thing I promised you. Enjoy!  
> ~ ewebie

Langdon held her breath as Connor’s lips met hers. His kiss was gentle at first, his lips feathered across hers, teasing, tempting, and leaving her wanting nothing more than for him to kiss her like he meant it. She sighed as the kiss ended, shivering at the sensation of his chest brushing against hers. “Don’t for a second think,” he whispered, his lips tracing a line along her jaw. “That you’re getting off that easily.”

She gasped as he found a sensitive spot just behind her ear. “I wish I could get off that easily.”

Connor froze, his lips resting against her neck. Langdon realised what she had said and a deep blush suffused her face. She could feel the movement of his mouth when he smiled before whispering, “If getting off is what you want, I’m sure I could oblige you.” She hesitated. Perhaps it took her a second too long to respond, and Connor groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Yeah, I know. Too much. Too fast.”

Langdon wanted to deny it. She wanted to grab him by the front of his shirt and drag him back, to have him kiss her until she couldn’t remember which way was up. She wanted so many things, but she couldn’t begin to find the words. She furrowed her brow and tried to come up with something, anything to tell him. Connor spoke first, “I get it, it’s ok.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rolled off to the side, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. “Laney,” he began.

“No, Connor,” she scrambled up to her knees, reaching for him.

He turned and captured her hand as it reached his arm, patting it gently. “I have an idea.” His smile was strained, but comforting. “I know this is weird. And apparently I have trouble keeping my hands to myself.”

“Connor,” she tried to interrupt.

He squeezed her hand and gave a wry smile. “It’s not often that you get the opportunity to hit the reset button. And as strange as it is, we’ve got that. So, how about we take advantage of it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m suggesting that we start over.” Her continued blank look drew a chuckle from him. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

“A date?”

“Sure.” He chucked her under the chin. “I’ve got a few errands I have to run tomorrow, and when I get back, we’ll have a first date. A second, first date.”

“So… we’re going to start dating?” Langdon asked.

“We’re already dating,” he corrected. “Well, we’re past dating, so we’ll just take a step back and start at that again. We can play the ‘get to know you’ game. What do you say?”

“Are you asking me out?” she asked softly. A blush coloured her cheeks. Self-confidence when it came to work was never a problem. Self-confidence when it came to the opposite sex, she was quite lacking. And while Connor seemed to put most of her insecurities at ease, Langdon couldn’t rid herself of all of them.

Connor’s mouth pulled up at the side into a sexy, lop-sided grin. “Only if you’re saying yes.” Langdon nodded a yes that had Connor laughing. “Pick you up at six?”

“Well, I’ll have to ask my dad first,” she muttered, his humour slightly infectious.

“Then I promise to have you home by curfew.”

Langdon rolled her eyes, “No fun.”

“Ok, I have a bit of work to get done before tomorrow morning. And you,” he tweaked her nose, “need to get your beauty sleep if you want Prof to let you back on the wards.” Langdon pouted. Regardless of how tired she was, she didn’t like being told what to do. “Don’t give me that look, you’ve been running on empty for awhile now.”

“I’ll run you on empty,” she muttered.

“As much as I’d like to see what that means, you’re going to bed.” He stood and stooped to kiss her forehead. “Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Langdon couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Try as she might, she couldn’t find peaceful sleep. Her body was still tingling from Connor’s embrace, and she was craving completion. It left her restless and tossing in the bed, and even when sleep came, it wasn’t restful.

 

~o~

 

_She was running. Langdon could feel her lungs burning from the combination of the cold air and the exhaust from traffic, but she kept running. She could hear feet pounding on the pavement behind her and a jolt of fear and adrenaline gave her a burst of speed as she cleared the alleyway. She flew out on to the quay, dodging traffic to reach the bridge. Somehow she knew if she could make it to the other side of the river, it would be ok, but the quay was open and exposed. She knew she could be seen, and she was vulnerable. She put her head down and sprinted for the bridge._

_The Millennium Bridge was just ahead and she winced as her heels hit the rough metal grating, losing traction for a moment on the icy surface. This winter was colder in Dublin than any in recent history, and the early sunsets made for complete darkness by half four every afternoon. But the dark gave her anonymity. A loud metallic ping sounded from nearby and she flinched. Her muscles were burning, but she ran harder. It was less than 200 yards to the South side, and she knew she could disappear into Temple Bar._

_The usual pedestrian traffic on the streets was lighter due to the cold, but Langdon was still dodging people. The dark outline of broad shoulders loomed in front of her and she skidded to change directions in an attempt to avoid ploughing into the person. And then she was airborne. Her body flipped through the air and she saw sky and river in one breath. She screamed. She flailed her arms in a desperate attempt to catch the bridge. Her fingers clutched at the slick edge of the bridge, her body jerking roughly as she momentarily stopped her descent. Pain shot through her arms and shoulders as her fingers slipped, unable to find purchase in the metal. She screamed again as she fell, the ice rushing toward her. The last thing she heard was Connor yelling her name, “Laney!”_

 

~o~

 

“Laney!” Connor shouted for a second time as her body convulsed sharply in his arms. He shook her until she opened her eyes.

Langdon’s fingers reflexively dug into Connor’s tee shirt, as her eyes struggled to focus in the dim lighting of their bedroom. “Wha…?”

“Hey,” Connor breathed softly, brushing hair back from her forehead. “You were having a nightmare.” Connor rested the back of his hand against her forehead then her cheek. “God, Laney, you’re ice cold. Stay here.”

Langdon shivered as Connor left the bed, the loss of his warmth was palpable. Her heart was still racing and she could feel sweat running down her back, but neither could distract her from the chill that seemed to permeate every inch of her body. She huddled under the blankets and took a few deep breaths to calm herself before Connor returned.

Connor flipped on the lights as he came back into the room, carrying an armful of warmth. He set a steaming mug down on the nightstand and tucked a hot water bottle under her feet. Ignoring her protests, he helped her into a large hooded sweatshirt and pulled a goofy knit hat onto her head. “Oh, come on. This isn’t necessary,” she complained.

“That would be much more convincing if I couldn’t hear your teeth chattering.” He slid into the bed behind her and pulled the blankets up around them, pressing the warm mug of hot chocolate into her hands. “Drink that.” His arms folded her into the curve of his body and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Cocoa?” She laughed.

“Trust me,” he whispered against her neck. “I’m a doctor.” Langdon closed her eyes and let the heat of the mug soak into her hands, the heat of Connor’s body warming her from the outside as his calm presence and comforting murmurs warmed her from the inside. She sipped the hot chocolate and a final shiver chased through her frame. “Better?” he asked softly.

Langdon nodded. “I think so.”

“You’re still cold,” he rubbed his palms up and down her arms.

Langdon giggled. “You’re going to make me spill my cocoa.”

He reached around and pulled the mug from her hands, returning it to the bedside table. “There, now we don’t have to worry about it.” He pulled her closer to him, nuzzling the side of her neck. “Want to talk about it?”

She wove her fingers into his and brought his arm across to her shoulder, rubbing her nose against his forearm. He was so warm and he smelled good. She shook her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Ok,” he kissed her cheek where it emerged from beneath the woolly hat. “How about we just do this for a while?” Langdon shifted to press her side against Connor’s solid chest, snuggling under his chin. Connor chuckled, “Your nose is freezing.”

Langdon rubbed her nose on the exposed patch of skin just above the collar of his tee shirt. “You’re still going to let me into work tomorrow, right?”

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he responded softly. Langdon nodded, grumbling when Connor shifted to turn out the light. He laughed again, “Good.” He scooted down in the bed, bringing Langdon with him. “Because I think I’m just going to hold you for the rest of the night.” Langdon burrowed in the blankets, murmuring her consent.

 

~o~

 

Langdon fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Connor had accompanied her to meet with Prof and negotiate her return to work, which was now set for Monday morning. He had dropped her back at the flat with instructions to ‘dress fancy’ for their date. Now, he was out running his errands at God only knows where, and she was feeling nerves the likes of which she had never experienced. Connor was due back in five minutes and Langdon thought she was going to throw up with the butterflies in her stomach.

Her cell phone rang and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Glancing at the display, it read as a number neither she nor the phone recognised. “Hello?”

“Langdon, it’s Paul.”

She frowned. What was he doing calling, especially after work on a Friday night? “Hey, Paul. What can I do for you?”

“Oh, well, me and some of the guys are going out for a few drinks and thought you might want to join us?”

“Paul?” The noise in the background on his end was making it hard for Langdon to hear what he was saying.

“Yeah? Um, you know the Glimmer Man? Can you hear me?”

Langdon frowned again. “I’ve got plans tonight, Paul. Connor’s taking me out. Maybe some other time, ok?” She found herself practically shouting the last sentence into the phone.

“Oh, ok.” He sounded defeated. Or was it annoyed? “Maybe later.”

“Later, Paul,” she said then stared at the phone incredulously when the call was disconnected suddenly. Did he hang up on me? Langdon slowly released her fingers from the couch pillow she didn’t realise she was clutching in her lap. If he was always this socially awkward, no wonder he creeped her out a little. Her phone rang again. “What?” she answered.

“Hey, babe. You ready to go?”

Langdon couldn’t help but smile as Connor’s voice carried through the phone. Even his voice was sexy, and she felt suddenly at ease. “Yeah, I’ve dressed up all fancy just like you asked.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? I’m downstairs.”

Langdon shot up from the couch and scrambled into her shoes and coat, nearly falling down the stairs in her rush. She flew out the door and nearly collided with Connor where he was waiting on the stoop. He caught her, standing her back on her feet and holding onto her arms for a little longer than necessary. Langdon giggled nervously, gave an apologetic shrug, and tried to straighten her dress and coat.

Connor swallowed over the sudden dryness in his throat, giving into the urge to stare. Laney had curled her hair into loose ringlets that spilled over her shoulders. Where her coat was still unbuttoned, he could make out the folds of a simple, little, black dress—his favourite dress. She looked gorgeous, and he was in big trouble. Maybe the date thing was a bad idea. He shook himself and plastered a brave smile on his face, producing a single long-stem rose from within his coat.

Her eyes went wide and two adorable pink spots suffused her cheeks, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you want to do dinner?” he grinned wickedly. “I suddenly have the urge to stay in.”

This time she blushed completely and a confusing flutter of fear and anticipation seemed to twist her tongue. The embarrassingly loud rumble of her stomach saved her from the awkward silence.

He chuckled, “Good point. I promised you dinner. And this is a first date. You have to go OUT on a first date.” Connor offered his arm, “Your chariot awaits.” Langdon smiled and allowed him to lead her to his old, beat-up car.

Dinner was a trial of patience for Connor. Everything Langdon did made his fingers itch to touch her. She had been overtly excited by the restaurant he had chosen. He didn’t tell her it was the same place they had come for their six-month anniversary. She had let him order for her when he assured her that he knew what she’d like the most, which he knew only because it was the same thing she always ordered when they came here. As they waited for the food to arrive, Connor gave her free reign of the conversation, opting to watch more than speak. She had this habit of biting her lip every time she was about to giggle. And her lower lip quirked ever so slightly when she was about to say something mischievous. And when she was unsure of what to say, she would cover her mouth with the back of her fingers and blink at him from beneath those dark lashes. And every few minutes he had to shake himself to keep from staring. He wanted to call for the bill and take her home and… well, that line of thought would only land him in a cold shower. He cleared his throat and shifted his tie.

What Connor didn’t know was that Langdon was having a similar problem. Maybe it was the fact that they were talking, really talking, but she could feel her well-developed defences slowly wearing down. She had suffered through a large number of bad boyfriends, some of which Connor knew and quite a few that happened before she came to Ireland. Maybe she had told him about them, but she had trouble trusting men. They tended to make much better friends than anything else; it made them far less likely to disappoint if they were just friends. But she trusted Connor. Through this whole ordeal, he had never once let her down. He worked so hard to make her happy. She never doubted his sincerity.

She studied him while they conversed. He smiled while he was talking and the grin was wide enough that it spread to his eyes and into his voice. His voice alone made her feel tingly, but the intensity in his eyes when he met her gaze warmed her down to toes. She caught him staring and she blushed, his expression changing to one of guileless chagrin, the cat that swallowed the canary. That expression, contrasted with the suit and tie, gave the appearance of a little boy dressed up in his daddy’s clothes. His dark brown hair was eternally mussed from his nervous habit of running his hands through it and she had to bite back the urge to play with the renegade lock that continually fell across his forehead. His tie was just the tiniest bit crooked; her fingers itched to straighten it. He laughed and eyes lit up, making him look absolutely adorable, and Langdon found it hard to keep track of what she was saying. Turning the conversation back on him, she asked, “So tell me, Connor, where did we go on our first date?”

“You mean, date date? Or where did we first hook up?” he winked at her guilty blush.

“Date date.” She remembered where they first hooked up. She remembered being quite aggressive in making that happen.

He shrugged, “Date is such a flexible term.” She blinked and the urge to scold him shone on her face. He chuckled. “When we officially started dating, I suppose the first date was dinner and a movie. I took you to see the new Disney movie and then out for pizza.”

She made a face, “And I went for that?”

“Hook, line, and sinker. You are a total sucker for Disney movies.” He reached across the table and brushed his fingers along her cheek.

“Disney movies?” she raised a brow, trying to keep the shiver that ran down her spine from showing in her face. Every time he touched her, she felt herself go up in flames.

“Or me,” he smiled as she felt her face colour deeply. Connor battled with the idea of kissing her, having just decided that it was a brilliant idea when the food arrived. He almost groaned aloud when he realized that he was going to have to sit and watch her eat, because somehow, she managed to be sexy when she was eating.

“Connor, this is fantastic!” she cooed after sampling her meal.

“Knew you’d like it,” he smiled. “But I have a request.” Langdon flushed having just taken a larger than necessary bite of food, but nodded for him to ask. “Dessert. We’re getting it to go.” Langdon giggled in spite of the food in her mouth.

They took their time, enjoying the combination of food, wine, and each other’s company. The more time she spent with Connor, the more comfortable Langdon became with the idea of Connor as a boyfriend. Once she managed to start him talking about things that were important, she began to recognise how compatible they were. The idea of Connor holding her while she slept actually left her feeling warm all over. When dinner was over, she blushed, but allowed Connor to help her into her coat before taking his arm as he led her from the restaurant.

Outside, the wind was blowing fiercely, and Langdon drew her coat closed against the chill, a shiver raced through her shoulders nonetheless. Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into the shelter of his side. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll blast the heat as soon as we get to the car,” he whispered. They paused across the street from the car. It was a busy main street and the crosswalk was showing a red hand, gathering a large number of pedestrians. “Hold this a minute?” he handed her the paper bag holding the surprise dessert he had ordered and began rummaging in his pockets for the keys.

“Hey!” an angry cry rang out from the back of the group waiting to cross the street. “Somebody help! He just stole my purse!”

The whole crowd shifted as the larger man barrelled into it running at full speed, and people jostled about, either to avoid the thief or attempt to catch him. Langdon had turned when the woman cried out, and found herself on awkward footing with the slant of the curb. One pedestrian stumbled and Connor was bumped sideways, almost crashing into her. “Hey, buddy, watch it,” he warned, steadying himself with the help of Langdon’s free hand on his shoulder.

Langdon turned from Connor back to the crowd and caught the flash of a black ski mask just as a gloved hand planted on her upper arm and shoved. She felt her whole body pitch backward into the street. Her shoes lost traction and her arms wind milled. The dessert bag went flying into traffic, and her scream was drowned out by the blaring horn of a rapidly oncoming bus.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crashing back in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... we get a little darker... Hope everyone is still enjoying this!  
> ~ ewebie

Langdon felt her left foot leave the ground and she knew that her weight was too far back; there was no way she was going to be able to right herself. She tried to twist, to take the impact of the fall on her hip and hands, but her motion was jerked to a stop as Connor’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm. He pulled as he turned away from the street, dragging her across his chest. He shut his eyes firmly as gust of wind ruffled his hair, accompanying the bus passing inches from his back.

Langdon felt his arms tighten around her, the rapid beating of his heart mirroring her own. Finally, she released a pent up breath and disengaged her fingers from his coat, slowly raising her eyes to meet his gaze. He looked so worried. There was tension in every line of his face, and his eyes were a wild, glinting green and amber. She wanted to erase the panic she saw there, but couldn’t think of what say. After a prolonged silence, Langdon released a nervous laugh, glancing around his shoulder to the remnants of the brown paper bag and whipped cream that was splattered on the pavement. “I think dessert is ruined.”

Connor forced a smile and wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug. “I’ll get you a new one,” he murmured against her cheek, not relaxing his firm hold around her body.

“We’re going to miss the light.”

Connor blinked at her, the expression on his face momentarily blank, and fervently backed her into the concrete wall of the corner building. “I don’t care,” he growled, planting a hand on either side of her head. “Frankly, neither of those is important to me. You are.”

His expression grew fiercely possessive, and Langdon only had time to suck in a surprised breath as his mouth descended upon her, his lips slanting across hers, hot and demanding. Weeks of tension fuelled by the scare he had just experienced flooded through him and he clutched her tightly, kissing her with devastating emotion. She lost track of which way was up, knowing only the solid warmth of his body where it crushed against hers and the stability of his searching hands. Langdon found the lapels of his coat and held on, no longer trusting her knees to keep her upright.

When he finally released her, his forehead rested against hers as they both caught their breath. “I’m starting to think you’re a little accident prone,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from their kiss.

Langdon barely resisted the urge to snort. “Come on, Connor. You’ve known me for years. This is just a string of bad luck.” A gust of wind caused a shiver, and she slid her hands around his waist and into the warmth of his coat.

“You’re going to end up with a chill again,” he said softly.

She smiled up at him. “I was about to get into a warm car with ‘blasting’ heat, but someone wouldn’t let me.”

He chuckled at the teasing note in her voice, leading her back toward the crosswalk. “At least I didn’t have to jump into a river to save you this time.”

Langdon froze. “You jumped in?” He nodded absently. She tugged on his arm until he turned back to face her. “What do you mean, you jumped in?” she demanded.

He furrowed his brow, “When you fell in the Liffey, someone had to pull you out.”

“And you were there?”

His eyes widened in concern. “Laney, you were supposed to be meeting me. You called me, said it was urgent. We were meeting at Foggy Dew on the other side of Temple Bar. I…” He gripped her shoulders. “Laney, you were late, I went to meet you at the bus stop. I had just made it to the quay…” His hazel eyes glinted with raw fear before he could mask the emotion and turn away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He strode into the crosswalk.

Langdon couldn’t believe he was walking away from her. “Connor!” she chased after him, catching his hand and letting him tow her across the street to the car. “Connor, talk to me, please.”

“Get in,” he held the door open for her.

She looked at him with concern, finally dropping onto the bucket seat rather ungracefully. “Connor?” He closed the car door sharply.

She waited for him to settle into the driver’s seat. “Connor, talk to me.”

He started the engine. “Drop it.”

“No.” She reached across the space in the car, her fingertips brushing his jaw line.

Connor jerked away from her touch. “Stop it,” his voice was both soft and dangerous.

Langdon’s brow twisted in confusion. “Connor, you have to talk to me.”

“No I don’t!” he shouted, the volume of his voice amplified in the small space of the car. Langdon’s face turned red. Connor never yelled, and he certainly never yelled at her. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands clutched in her lap. She could feel the tears threatening to spill from behind her lashes and turned to look out the window.

Connor struggled to get a grip on his emotions. He felt raw, striped, and torn in multiple directions at once. He spared a glance at Laney and his heart dropped. She was going to cry; he panicked. Don’t cry, please don’t cry. Oh man, how could he explain it to her? If he hadn’t been there, it was doubtful she would have survived. It terrified him. What if he hadn’t been there? What if he had decided to get a drink and wait? What if he hadn’t been as fast as he was tonight? He had come so close to losing her, and if he did, it would destroy him.

Another momentary look at Laney and he felt sick to his stomach. She was pretending to be interested in something out the window, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. The thought crossed his mind that it would be his own damn fault if she did start crying, and the truth angered him. Growling to himself, he threw the car into gear and spun out into traffic.

 

~o~

 

Paul thumbed through a meagre pile of bills, throwing the wallet back into the bag in disgust. A few euros, that was all he managed out of his brilliant plan. It was the second time Connor Kennedy had interfered with his job. That man was stuck to Langdon like glue. Why couldn’t she be dating someone with slower reflexes?

He leaned back against the brick wall of the alley and slid down onto his haunches. He would have to get her alone, somehow drag her away from Connor. That, or Connor would have to go too. Better the two of them than me, Paul thought glumly. Even if he didn’t get it done, there were other people that would. No sense in dying along with them. He tugged the ski mask off and tossed it into the nearby dumpster.

Now the question was how to get her away from Connor… Or how to get rid of them both. Either way, it had to happen soon.

 

~o~

 

Langdon glumly followed Connor into their flat and watched as he stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door. She dropped on the couch, listening for Connor to return. When the door remained closed, Langdon felt every second weighing on her heart. She slipped off her shoes and coat, leaving them next to the couch and moved cautiously to the bedroom. She peeked in to see Connor sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

She pushed the door open far enough to slip inside and with the rustle of her dress against the doorframe, Connor’s head shot up. He watched her cautiously for a few moments. The silence had her shifting uncomfortably, but he didn’t speak until it was only to effectively cut her off from saying anything. “Look, I’m going to change, and then I’ll get out of your way.” Connor pushed himself up from the edge of the bed and shed his suit coat, hanging it on the closet door.

“Get out of my way?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” he glanced over his shoulder but didn’t meet her confused stare. “I’ll just sleep on the couch or something.”

“Sleep on the couch?” she took a timid step into the bedroom. “Why would you sleep on the couch?”

“Look, Laney, I don’t want to fight right now. I’ll be out of your way in a minute.” He ran a hand absently through his hair heading back toward the bed, loosening his tie, and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

“Fight? Connor, this isn’t fighting, this is you shutting me out. What the hell is going on?” Langdon took a few bold strides into the room. “Connor, talk to me.” The ache in her voice only wounded him deeper and he couldn’t bring himself to face her. He grabbed a pillow from the bed. She bit down on her lower lip to keep it from shaking. “Please, Connor.”

Connor spared another glance her way, if for no other reason than to get an idea of how upset she truly was. It was a bad idea. Her body language alone projected a vulnerability that had a wave of fierce protectiveness tensing his shoulders. His brows knit together with frustration and worry and he turned back toward the bed.

She clenched her jaw and stared at the broad wall of his back. She wanted to scream he made her so angry. She finally understood the meaning of the phrase ‘seeing red,’ and a tremor of rage shuddered through her. She could tolerate a great many things, but this was too much.

Connor ran his palm down the length of his face, his fingertips less than gently tracing the line of his mouth. He didn’t know what to say; there was nothing to say. Laney deserved much better than his silence, but he couldn’t find the words. He was so lost in thought that he was completely unaware that Langdon’s distress had transitioned into full-blown anger. The only warning he had of her ignited temper was her small shriek of rage before he was knocked clean off his feet.

Langdon launched herself at his back, the momentum carrying them into the bed. Connor almost ended up winded as the corner of the mattress caught him in the stomach. “Laney, what the hell?” he demanded, trying to push himself up. Langdon would have none of it. They tussled, wrestling against the bed and she scrambled to put him in a headlock, twisting one of his arms up behind his back. “Damnit, Laney! Let me up!”

“No,” she hissed. “Not until you’re ready to talk to me.”

“What?” he sputtered, twisting in her grip. “No! I don’t want to talk, but I’m damn close to paddling your ass. Get off.” The fact that he couldn’t free his hand surprised him, but her fierce hold did nothing to appease his growing sense of self-righteous anger. “Who the hell taught you to wrestle?”

“I have brothers,” she growled.

He scoffed. “Nice, now let me up.”

“No,” she insisted.

“Laney!” He shoved hard off the bed, and she lost her hold on his arm, stumbling back a few steps. Connor spun to face her, holding his hands up in a conciliatory manner.

Langdon didn’t care. She was fuming. She tackled him onto the bed, the mattress knocking his knees out from behind as she used her whole body to pin him down. Connor tried to throw her off. She was half his size, but seemed unmovable. “Damnit, Connor!” she cried. “Why won’t you talk to me?” Her voice cracked, and Connor stopped fighting her, finally meeting her gaze for a fleeting moment.

She was shaking, her face flushed, her expression incensed, but the glisten in her eyes betrayed the hurt behind her anger. “Laney,” he said softly.

“Don’t placate me!”

“Placate you?” his voice rose in irritation. “Laney, you’re the one sacking me when I’m not looking.”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do?” she shouted back. “You want me, then you don’t. You yell at me, then you won’t talk to me. I don’t have anyone else to talk to, Connor!”

“Why do you have to talk about this?” he tried to wriggle free.

“Why won’t you?”

“Anything else,” he pleaded. “I’ll talk about anything else. Ask me whatever you want.”

“What are you protecting me from?”

“You almost died!” his entire body stiffened beneath hers. “I saw you running across the bridge. I only looked away for a second. A second! When I looked for you again you were falling. I yelled for someone to do something and no one moved. No body else did anything!” He couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through him.

“So you jumped in?” she whispered, feeling her temper rapidly wane.

Connor felt her grip on his hands relax and he suddenly shifted, rolling and pinning her shoulders to the bed. “Yes I jumped! And you were blue. And you weren’t breathing. And I thought you were dead!”

Langdon watched the expressions wash across his face in rapid sequence: fear, anger, panic, helplessness, more anger. She wanted to take away the pain that had him shaking, that had him holding her in a fierce grip. Everything was her fault. A guilty knot twisted in her stomach. “I didn’t know,” she breathed.

“No, you didn’t know. You didn’t remember. I never wanted you to remember. I don’t want to remember it.”

“I’m so sorry, Connor.” She ran her fingertips across his cheek, easing the lines of tension as he softened under her caress. “I wish you had told me.”

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured, pushing himself back up to his knees. He felt completely exhausted. “I just… I came so close to losing you. I don’t want… I can’t lose you.” He dropped bonelessly against the pillows. “I don’t know, Laney. I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m sorry.”

Langdon scrambled up and threw herself at Connor. He flinched, momentarily expecting her to hit him again, and was mildly stunned as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “You’re like my own personal knight in shining armour,” she whispered, feathering kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Or a prince charming, or something.”

Connor couldn’t resist the urge to smile. After the intensity of their exchange, he felt himself dissolve into a fit of laughter. He hugged her fiercely, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Would that make you a damsel in distress, then? Ack!” he chuckled as she warmly kissed where she had just nipped the side of his neck. “Fine then, princess.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Are we ok?” she asked timidly.

“Are you planning on tackling me again if we aren’t?”

She shook her head. “What on earth would make you think I’d do that?”

He smiled wryly. “If you don’t tackle me, I won’t spank you for it.”

Langdon scoffed. “I suddenly wish I could remember where I put those handcuffs Eoin gave me.” She sobered and twisted to meet his eyes. “So, are we ok?”

He pinched her playfully. “We’re ok. Just… Stay out of trouble, alright?”

“Out of trouble, check.”

He pulled her close again, enjoying the feel of her pressed against the length of his body. “Do you mind if I just hold you for the rest of the night? I don’t think I could let go if I tried.”

Langdon nodded, snuggling into his warmth. “Hold away, Sir. I don’t need my arms back until Monday.”

 

~o~

 

After a full week of being banished to the wards, Langdon was chomping at the bit to get back into the operating room. Eoin had volunteered to ‘supervise’ her while she re-acclimated to the routine of the hospital. She was grateful. Eoin didn’t hover or second-guess her, just checked in to make sure she was doing ok, sign off on her charts, have a chat every now and then, and send her home when it was getting late.

Ward work was tedious without operations or Out Patients to break up the monotony. Langdon left the hospital at the end of every shift exhausted from the strain of pretending to know people she couldn’t remember and apparently remembering how to do things she just somehow knew. When she had beaten Connor home, she had fallen asleep on the couch trying to wait up for him. She had woken hours later, wrapped in his arms, curled up in their bed. When Connor was off shift before she was, she came home to waiting dinner and his strong encouragement that she get some sleep. And while she did listen to him, she was painfully aware of tension building between them again.

When she had first returned home, Connor’s presence in the bed had unnerved her, but Langdon was finding it hard to sleep soundly without his arms wrapped around her. His smell, his warmth, and the solid weight of him next to her managed to calm her near manic thoughts long enough for sleep. More frequently, she woke with the strong desire to have her way with him. Yet somehow, even the knowledge that he felt the same didn’t help her find the courage to tell him so. After the fight, they had reached an unspoken truce of sorts, and she didn’t want to upset the tenuous peace in the flat. But the sexual frustration that built wound her tight enough to have her on a hair trigger. If she didn’t find some sort of release soon, she was going to explode.

Thankfully, her near flawless patient care over the past few days was sign enough to Prof that, whether or not she had regained all of her memories, she was capable of doing her job well. Eamonn had been waiting for her to get back to the surgical team, and Langdon insisted that they clarify a few things before she started working with him again.

“Look, Lang, we’re friends now, that’s all there is to it,” Eamonn said bluntly.

“Eamo, I’ve never been good at being friends with my ex-boyfriends.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m your boss. You don’t have much of a choice.”

Langdon narrowed her eyes, studying him carefully. “You could be full of shit, right? I mean, how do I know you aren’t just telling me whatever you want me to believe?”

“Honey, if I were lying, I’d come up with something better than ‘we’re just friends,’ ok? Believe me. I’m much more creative than that when I want to be.” He managed to draw a smile from her, and threw his arm around her shoulder in a companionable manner. “Come on, kid. We’ve got some cutting to do.”

Langdon grinned. “Finally.”

 

~o~

 

_Langdon shifted her stance to keep the blood moving. As much as she loved surgery, there was a good deal of standing around and not moving. “Ms. Murphy, if you could remove the langy-back.” She did as the professor asked, wordlessly handing the instrument to the scrub nurse. Prof rinsed out the area and swabbed it once more before turning to the senior registrar. “Mr. O’Neil, if you’d like to close, I think we’re done here.” Eamonn O’Neill nodded his consent._

_She watched the Prof move off into the sluice room, shucking his gown and gloves as he went. Eamonn looked up from the primed suture kit and gave her a wink. “Is he gone?” Langdon nodded slightly as the second set of doors closed behind their boss. “Good,” he mumbled, handing her the needle and forceps. “You close, I’ll watch.”_

_“What?” Lang looked at him startled._

_Eamonn grinned. “I said, you close, I’ll watch. Come on, Lang. I’ve seen you with your practice kit at home. You probably stitch better than I do.”_

_“It’s a practice kit, Eamonn!”_

_“You have to learn sometime, kid.”_

_Langdon blushed. She hated being called a kid almost as much as she hated the way Eamonn was manipulating her. She took the tools from his hands and muttered, “You’ll pay for this later.”_

_“Empty threats.” He grinned and proceeded to talk her through the surgical closure. Thirty minutes later, Langdon was sipping a steaming mug of tea and relaxing between surgeries. “See,” Eamonn winked at her over his mug. “Not that scary.”_

_“Your face isn’t that scary,” she mumbled, trying not to laugh._

_“Is that anyway to speak to your boss?” He pretended to be offended._

_“You shouldn’t patronize your girlfriend,” she whispered slyly._

_The pager on Eamonn’s waistband went off, beeping offensively in the rather calm break room. “Aw, hell. It’s the A &E, go see what they want?”_

_“Are you asking me or are you telling me?” she quirked a brow._

_“Your boyfriend is asking, your boss is telling. Quit being a smartass and go check on the new admit.”_

_Langdon liked the A &E, there was something organised in the chaos of the place. Plus, you would never get bored there. So many different problems, so many different people, so many different procedures. “Surgical got a page,” she announced to the triage nurse at the main desk._

_“Ambulance, bay two, three minutes or less, resus ready.”_

_Langdon nodded and prepped the resus room before heading to the ambulance bay. She arrived with the incoming patient. The EMT quickly pulled the gurney from the back of the vehicle and rushed a young looking redhead into resuss, rattling off a series of information. “25 year old female, multiple trauma road traffic accident.” An alarm went off and the EMT cursed, pumping a bag ventilator over the patient’s nose and mouth. “She’s crashing again!”_

_Langdon began shouting orders, clearing the way into resuss. “Page Prof, we need the theatre ready.” Dropping the haphazard patient chart pulled from the EMT’s information, she turned to assess the patient._

_She froze. The redheaded girl was Katie. Christ! It was Katie!_

_“Ms. Murphy!” The EMT’s voice was urgent._

 

~o~

 

“Ms. Murphy?” The scrub nurse called again, relieved to see a flicker of recognition in the young surgeon’s eyes. “Are you alright?”

Langdon cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she said firmly, feeling far from it.

Eamonn’s eyes flicked up from the open surgery in front of him. “You sure?” he asked softly. “You look a little pale.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’ll take more than a broken radius or two to make me lose my lunch, Eamonn.”

“Screwdriver,” he reached for the tool. “I wasn’t saying anything of the sort. I simply said you look pale. Do me a favour and hold that. X-ray?” Langdon held the metal plate in place with the screwdriver as they wheeled the large machine over the field. Due to the constant use of imaging during the surgeries, all present in the OR had to wear special lead protection, or the LSD suits, as Langdon liked to call them, due to the glittered purple covering that made them decorative. Regardless, when imaging was in process, anyone without a suit had to step out of the theatre.

“Active field,” Eamonn called and started to take a series of x-rays to ensure the bones were properly aligned. He grumbled, “come on, I don’t want to use the k-wires.” He shifted the plate and the wrist carefully, taking another series of images. “Come on,” he muttered. “Lang, I need you to hold the elbow in place.” She followed his instructions as he increased the angle of flexion.

“Hey, Lang!”

Langdon’s head shot up, “Paul?”

“Get the fuck out!” Eamonn barked. “We’ve a live field!” Paul looked momentarily panicked before he backed into the scrub room. “The hell?” Eamonn looked at Langdon pointedly.

“How should I know?” she asked bluntly.

Eamonn rolled his eyes. “Some of your classmates are a few bricks short of a wall.”

“Nice,” she said wryly. “Care to finish this?” She gestured to where her hand was still inside the patient’s arm.

Eamonn sighed. “As long as you aren’t planning any other idiotic visits.”

“I didn’t plan that. He’s just weird.” A loud beep startled them both and Langdon’s eyes shot to the monitor. “Eamonn?”

“He’s in A-fib. Amiodarone,” he ordered. The anaesthetist bumped Langdon in his hurry to meet Eamonn’s demand, and Langdon felt her stomach bottom out. She suddenly felt woozy, sweat breaking out across her forehead.

“Ms. Murphy?”

 

~o~

 

_“Ms. Murphy!” The EMT’s voice was urgent._

_Langdon shook herself. “She’s in V tach. Prep epi and charge the paddles. Get me the O neg.”_

_It was three gruelling minutes of resuss before Katie’s heart stabilised, and as she guided the gurney into the operating theatre, Langdon felt twenty years older than earlier that morning. Katie was still unconscious and unresponsive, but the x-ray series was done. Prof and Eamonn had caught up with her at the doors and she hollowly cited the stats as the scrub nurses did a rapid surgery prep. Langdon moved stiffly, robotically going through the motions of scrubbing in for surgery. Eamonn stared at her. “What’s wrong?”_

_“It’s Katie,” she whispered, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes._

_“What?”_

_“That’s Katie.” Langdon felt herself begin to shake._

_“Your roommate?” Eamonn glanced at the table through the double doors then back at Langdon. “Prof! That’s one of ours!” He left Langdon in the scrub room and rushed into the theatre._

_Langdon couldn’t hear the conversation over the sound of the taps, but Prof looked up sharply from the tray of tools and gave Eamonn a series of orders. Eamonn looked pale, but nodded. He made a number of quick phone calls before returning to the scrub room. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said softly._

_Langdon shook her head stubbornly as she finished with her gloves and moved into the OR. Prof glanced up from his first incisions, locking eyes with her before glancing over her shoulder. “I thought I told you to get her out of here,” he snapped._

_“Yes, sir,” Eamonn said hurriedly from behind her. “Sorry.” He took Langdon by the shoulders, “Come on, Lang.”_

_“No!” she shouted. “I want to help.”_

_“Out!” Prof barked as three senior consultants brushed past and crowded the table._

_Any other time, Langdon would have been impressed by the number of world-class surgeons gathered in the operating theatre, but today she was oblivious. Eamonn half dragged her from the room. “Langdon, go!” he gave her a shove out the door._

_“Where?” she demanded hotly, spinning to face him. Her fury eclipsed her fear and she nearly launched herself at him. “That’s my best friend, asshole! You can’t expect me to just sit on my hands and wait!”_

_“I can and I do,” Eamonn told her firmly, shutting the door in her face and locking it._

_She released a howl of fury and slammed her fist into the door. “Eamonn O’Neill, you unlock this door!” From behind the glass, Eamonn gestured pointedly and scrubbed in to join the surgery. Langdon wound up to strike the door again, when someone caught her from behind._

_“Langdon, what are you doing?” Connor demanded, pulling her away from the door and holding her against the opposite wall._

_“He won’t let me in. He locked me out! Connor, make him let me in!” She tried to push off the wall and snarled as Connor held her firmly in place._

_His brows knit together in concern. “Calm down, Lang. Why did Prof lock you out?”_

_“It’s Katie,” Langdon’s voice rose in panic. “She was in an accident. Please, Connor! I have to do something!” She tried to get free of his hold again._

_Connor glanced over his shoulder at the crowded OR. “Lang, I need you to calm down and take a deep breath.” He waited for her to comply before continuing. “Now, slowly, explain what happened.”_

_Langdon’s eyes flit nervously to the room over Connor’s shoulder before she met his gaze. “She came into A &E, went into V-tach, we had to resus, but she’s bleeding everywhere. Connor, there was so much blood.” Connor took in the state of Langdon’s scrubs, dark red stains splattered across the blue fabric. Langdon’s eyes followed the line of his gaze, seeing the blood on her clothes for the first time. Something snapped and the tears that had been threatening to fall, spilled down her cheeks as her knees buckled beneath her._

_Connor caught her before she could hit the floor, sinking down against the wall and holding her as her body trembled. “It’s ok, Lang. It’s going to be ok.” She didn’t know how long they stayed on the floor, or how Connor convinced her to move, but he did. Then she was floating, and everything was warm and soft and black._


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad days and backrubs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Building up and winding down. This is Ch 8 or 11... so we're getting there. I hope you're enjoying it and as always, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!  
> ~ ewebie

“What the fuck happened?” Connor demanded angrily, meeting Eamonn at the entrance to the surgical wing.

“I don’t know, man,” Eamonn tried to placate Connor. “She was fine and then she was almost fainting.”

“Just like that? She has one of the strongest stomachs of anyone I’ve ever met. Surgery has never made her lose her lunch.” Connor ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “I mean, she’s been tired lately, but fainting?”

“Look, she’s in the break room. I gave her a mug of tea and told her to stay there. She didn’t seem too happy with me, for whatever reason.”

“I’m not too happy with you right now,” Connor growled.

Eamonn stopped before they reached the break room and snagged Connor’s white coat. “Are you ok?”

Connor released an aggravated sigh. “Aside from the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in a few weeks, my girlfriend doesn’t remember dating me, I live in constant fear of her getting lost because she doesn’t remember where we live, and I know she’s holding things back from me. She seemed so content to be back at work. Do you know that she woke up screaming last week from a nightmare?” Connor stopped talking and started pacing.

Eamonn watched for a moment before speaking. “Does she know you’re wound this tight?”

Connor turned sharply to face him. “If you mean, have I told her I need to get laid? No! She has enough problems as it is.” Connor tried to calm himself. “I don’t want to put any pressure on her. And you aren’t going to tell her any of this, alright?”

“Lang, reads people like a book. I’m sure she can tell you’re stressed out.” Eamonn frowned slightly, “Just take care of yourself. She’ll kill you if you end up sick over her.” Connor’s laugh was strained, but he laughed nonetheless. “Anyway, she was stubborn enough to finish out the surgery, but I’m taking her off the list for the rest of the day. And if you find out why she’s so pissed off at me, let me know?”

“I’ll let you know,” Connor muttered and squared his shoulders before heading into the break room. His breath nearly left him when he caught sight of Laney. She had wedged herself in the corner of the window bench, her knees tucked under her chin, and her hands clutching the mug of tea. He watched her take a shaky breath and use the heel of her hand to wipe away tears. She looked defeated. God, she was crying, he cringed at the sensations it wrought in his gut.

“Laney?” She turned to face him and tried to fake a smile, failing miserably. Giving up on the smile, she sniffed and looked down at her hands, her lower lip quivering. “Oh, sweetie,” he dropped onto the bench next to her and pulled the mug from her hands, setting it on a nearby table. “What happened?”

“How long was I crashing on your couch after Katie died?”

Whatever he had been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it. He blinked trying to catch up to the question. “When Katie died?” he asked. She nodded. “I don’t know, three weeks maybe a month. I didn’t want you in your flat by yourself, Robby didn’t mind you being there, and you weren’t really willing to go home for a break.”

She sniffed, straightening her back as if bracing herself. “What happened between me and Eamonn?”

Connor took her hands in his, running the pads of his thumbs over her knuckles. “Laney, you don’t have to do this.”

She gave a bittersweet smile. “I do, though.” She glanced around the empty room before returning her gaze to their joined hands. “I can’t imagine I took being thrown out of theatre very well.”

“No, you didn’t.” He tugged her from the corner and wrapped her in a comforting hug. “I took you home that day. You were in shock, a violent and angry shock, but shock nonetheless. Anytime anyone got near you, you’d start yelling.”

“Except you?”

 “Except me.” He gave her a small smile. “You didn’t talk to Eamo before the funeral, and he let you be. About a week later, he convinced me to let him come over and talk to you. I thought it was a good idea. But then you started throwing things.”

Langdon frowned, “Really?”

“Yep.”

“How does he still talk to me?”

“You guys worked things out. Not as a couple, but first to work together again, and then just socially. He’s a decent guy, but he gets a little skittish around you when you’re holding dishes.” Connor pulled back to get a read on her face. “Is that what happened, then? You remembered Eamonn throwing you out of theatre that day?”

She nodded. “I remembered the whole miserable day.”

A short laugh managed to escape him, “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. But it explains why Eamonn thinks you’re upset with him.”

“I thought I had every right to be,” she muttered.

“Well, maybe you did. At least a little. You shouldn’t have been running that resus, and Eamonn knows that.”

She felt a ripple of tension run through him and she raised a delicate brow. “You told him so, didn’t you?”

A guilty grin spread across Connor’s face. “Maybe.” Langdon laughed and Connor breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to see her laugh. “Look, Eamonn took you off the surgical list for the day.” He continued quickly to keep her from objecting, “Which I agree with.” She frowned and nodded reluctantly. “You can go home and rest if you want. I shouldn’t be late.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently. “I’ll be fine. I can’t just go home whenever I have a bit of a rough day.” She stood and collected herself, straightening her scrubs, smoothing her hair, and wiping the last traces of tears from beneath her eyes. “I’ll go back to ward work for the rest of the day. Page me before you go home?”

Connor smiled warmly. “That’s my girl.” He gave her a quick hug and rested his hands on her shoulders.

Langdon didn’t miss the pained expression that flit through his eyes. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m just a little tired today,” he lied.

“You’ve been restless at night.”

He plastered a reassuring smile on his face. “So have you. Take care of yourself today, alright?”

“Out of trouble, check.” She watched him leave before collecting her white coat and leaving the surgical wing for the wards. It’d be a cold day in hell before she’d slink home with her tail between her legs. She didn’t want to work on the wards all day, but it was better than the alternative. Langdon straightened her coat and hurried to find Eoin.

Eoin gave her a wry smile when she showed up on the ward. “Get sick of cutting so soon?”

Langdon scowled. “Very funny.”

“I’m a funny guy, what can I say.” He handed her a stack of charts. “Good news, I’m also busy.”

“Oh, you’re just peachy.” She stared at the pile of paperwork.

“You love me,” he grinned.

Langdon threw herself into the work, spending the day taking blood, running lines, re-charting prescriptions, re-dressing wounds, and filling in page after page of patient charts. It was tedious, necessary work, and work that she had spent much of her medical rotation slaving over. When a call came in of a report that needed to be picked up from the pathology department, she volunteered to take pick it up so Eoin could finish with his patients.

She wound her way through the maze of halls that comprised the old hospital, reaching the far basement corner where they housed the morgue, the post-mortem rooms, and the path labs. Why did every hospital put the morgue in the basement? she wondered with a shudder. She edged past the autopsy rooms with a slight frown on her face. There was something creepy about the rooms.

The door leading to pathology office cluster was ajar. She knocked and peeked her head in. “Dr. Maslow?” She heard someone in the back of the lab and stepped into the dark room. “Dr. Maslow? I’m here to pick up the path report.” At the far end of the office block, she could see a light on and started to wend her way through rows of filing cabinets and specimen lined shelves. The smell of formalin was overwhelming and she wondered how anyone could work down here. It wasn’t just the smell; the whole place was eerie. Who wanted to work late next to the room where bodies were dissected or remains were prepared for burial?

The sound of something clattering to the floor had her spinning. She squinted into the dark, but couldn’t see any signs of movement. “Dr. Maslow?” she called again. Now she was vividly reminded why she’d hated working late on her path rotation. As interesting as the work was, the whole place gave her the heebie-jeebies.

A hand dropped down on her shoulder and she jumped, stifling a scream. She whirled, coming face to face with Paul. “Jesus, Paul!” she pressed a hand to her chest, trying calm the rapid beating of her heart. “You scared the crap out of me!”

Paul gazed down at her, his hands now shoved in the pockets of his white coat. “Sorry, I didn’t realise there was anyone else down here.” He scanned the room, seeing no one else in sight. “What are you doing down here?”

Langdon took a step back, Paul’s proximity making her uncomfortable. “I came down to pick up a report. Have you seen Dr. Maslow?”

Paul took a step forward, closing the distance between them again. “No,” he said, his voice low. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone around here in the past hour.”

Langdon retreated another step and felt her back collide with one of the filing cabinets. “What are you doing down here, Paul?”

He took another step forward, his size dwarfing her smaller frame. “Oh, this and that. You know how it is when you’re running all over the place.” Langdon furrowed her brow, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Ms. Murphy?” a call came from the lit office.

Langdon cleared her throat and stared at Paul. “Yes, Dr. Maslow?”

“I thought I heard someone out there. Come on in, I have a report that I need you to sign off on.”

Langdon inched away from Paul, backing toward the office. “I’ll see you around, Paul,” she said softly before turning and fleeing into the sanctity of Maslow’s office.

 

~o~

 

Paul watched Langdon close the door and grumbled to himself. It unnerved him that she had surprised him again. She didn’t seem to be scared of him. That was a good sign, right? If she’d remembered, she would have run like hell, right? What if she was just messing with him? What was he going to do? She had been right there, alone… He pounded his fist against his forehead. If he couldn’t get the job done, he was dead. Fuck.

 

~o~

 

Langdon spent a few minutes catching up with Dr. Maslow. She had worked in his lab for a few weeks when she was trying to decide on a specialty. He was brilliant, loved his work, but it wasn’t the job for her. She collected the report and was relieved to find Paul had left the offices. She had always thought of herself as a good reader of people and situations and her gut was in knots over her last interaction with Paul. Something was just off. And she rarely had such a reflexive fear of anyone. Regardless, she didn’t feel comfortable until she was back on the ward brushing shoulders with Eoin.

She filed the report with the appropriate chart and resumed her work. It was later in the afternoon when Eoin dropped into a chair next to her and grimaced slightly at the dirty look she shot his way. “Hey now, I didn’t tell you to come up here.”

“Did you make a dent in your to-do list at all?” she asked, closing the last chart and trying to shift a kink out of her neck.

“Sure, though you may have made a bigger dent than I did. If you ever want to drop the whole surgical career, I’d welcome you to the medical any day.”

“And switch to the dark side? Never,” she graced him with a half smile.

“Well, if nothing else, you look better than you did earlier.” He clapped her on the back. “Want to tell me about it?”

Langdon glanced at her watch, “Do you have time for a mug of tea?”

Eoin nodded and helped her return the completed charts before heading off to the canteen. He waited until they were both seated with steaming mugs of tea before asking, “So what have you been mulling over all day that’s had your forehead wrinkled. I can practically hear the gears grinding from this side of the table.”

“Mmmn, just a little more sarcasm to sweeten the tea there, Eoin?”

He chuckled. “Snarky, nice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to be helpful or are you just going to make fun of me?”

“I’m always helpful.” His blue eyes turned serious, “Lang, you know if you need something…”

“I need some advice, Eoin.” She stared at the mug in her hands for a few moments, swallowing the swell of pride that was about to prevent her from asking for his help. “Look, Connor isn’t talking to me. I don’t know what to do. He’s not sleeping, he’s not eating like he should, and I’d bet money that it’s worry over me.”

Eoin stared blankly, blinking at her slowly blushing face. “Do you need the handcuffs again?” She turned bright red and he laughed. “Tell me something, Lang. When’s the last time you two… you know?”

Langdon furrowed her brow. “The last time we what?”

His mouth drew up into a slow and menacing smile. “You know. Had sex, bumped uglies, screwed around, slept together, made love, fuck-“

“Stop!” Her face was bright red now. “I get it, Eoin. And it’s been since before the accident.”

“And you’re wondering why he’s high strung. Seriously, Lang, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been encouraging the attention, Eoin,” she hissed. “He blows hot and cold all the time.”

“Maybe he’s gay.” Eoin raised a brow and grinned.

“Oh you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Ha!” Eoin set a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Lang, he’s straight, I promise. Otherwise, I’d be all over that. But here’s the thing: are you ‘encouraging attention’ or are you throwing yourself at him?”

She cleared her throat nervously. “Encouraging?”

“And does that normally work with him?”

Langdon considered what she remembered of how she and Connor started dating and blushed again. “No,” she muttered.

“Then you know what needs to be done.” He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I love that this is your solution.”

“I have a feeling that he’s trying to be gentle with you. He’s never been able to keep his hands off of you, so let’s look at it from a different perspective.” Eoin laced his fingers and formed a point with his index fingers, tapping them together in thought. “If I were Connor, which I’m not, thank God… No offence. And you were ‘fragile’ and couldn’t remember that you were dating me, the idea of sleeping with you would make me feel like I was manipulating you in some way. You know, it would make me feel a little sleezy.”

“You think?” she chewed on her lower lip, contemplating Eoin’s idea.

“Well,” he grinned lasciviously. “I don’t think I’d have a problem taking advantage of you. But Connor probably would.”

Langdon laughed. “You’re terrible.”

“And you, chicken, are going to have to take the initiative on this one.” He reached across the table and patted her arm in a comforting manner. “Take him in hand if you will.”

“Enough, Eoin, I get it.” She fiddled with her mug as she thought about the proposal. “So, when do I do this?”

“The sooner the better.” He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Put him out of his misery, dearie. Put yourself out of your misery. If I remember correctly, you’re quite the accomplished masseuse. You know what, take him away for the weekend and fuck his brains out so I don’t have to see you glowing in the mornings. That would just piss me off.”

Langdon broke down in a fit of giggles and Eoin was quick to join her. Connor and Lang had been his friends since they started school and it bothered him to see either one upset. Hopefully, this would help. Otherwise, he was serious about handcuffing them together again. “Eoin, you’re brilliant.”

“I still hate you.”

“You love me and you know it.”

Eoin smiled. “Yeah, I know. Can’t put anything past you, can I? Now get the hell out of here. Go home and plot this coup of yours.”

Langdon grinned and planted a kiss on Eoin’s cheek before heading for the locker room, plans for the evening already forming in her head.

 

~o~

 

Paul stripped the bloody surgical gloves from his hands and dropped them into the biomed waste bin. He made the mistake of glancing back at the body that lay on the table, slowly growing cold. The first time he had seen a dead body was the first day of their anatomy lab. The cadaver that had been on the table was there as a learning tool, a sacrifice to the furthering of their education, a wonderful and generous gift to those needing knowledge and experience.

Now, he had seen more bodies than he could count. Hell, he’d had his hands in more than a dozen of them and, he shuddered, maybe he’d brought the end sooner than expected. He thought of himself as merciful. What he did down here was art. Brilliant really. No one suspected a thing… Except Langdon.

Then again, she didn’t really suspect anything, but she would know sooner or later, he was sure of it. Growling to himself, he shouldered the bulging backpack and flicked off the lights. He had a new plan. He knew how he’d get rid of her. But it seemed like such a waste.

 

~o~

 

Connor eyed Langdon from his vantage point against the counter. She had been quiet all evening. Too quiet for his liking. He knew she was getting bored, restless, frustrated. But tonight she was nearly silent, shooting furtive glances his way when she thought he wasn’t looking. Now she was scurrying around the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of the evening meal. He moved to help her, but she slapped his hand. “You’ve been tending me for two weeks now. I told you that I’d take care of everything tonight and you agreed. I cooked, I’m cleaning. That was the deal. Go sit down.”

Connor smiled at the spunk she was showing then moved out of her way, settling on the couch and letting her work out whatever peeve had her so worked up. He turned on the TV to catch up on sports and tuned out the noise from the kitchen. Moments later, he tuned out everything and dozed off on the couch.

Langdon finished cleaning and glanced over to find Connor out cold. She frowned slightly as she watched him sleep. His hair was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it all day, his shirt was rumpled, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his face was drawn, pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and exhaustion etched in every line of his body, an exhaustion that she felt responsible for. He needed her. No, she shook herself. He needed the now Laney, not the past Laney. Past Laney seemed to be rather needy and wasn’t getting the job done. She didn’t know what to do anymore and was flat out of ideas. Maybe Eoin was right. Sighing, she shrugged and trudged over to the couch. If nothing else, she could help him relax.

Connor didn’t notice as she slid behind him on the couch or the first few tentative touches as her hands grazed his shoulders and arms. Slowly, he awoke to softness, warmth, and the sensation of small but strong fingers massaging the knots from his shoulder muscles. He groaned; it felt fantastic. The hands hesitated when he stirred and he groaned again, this time in frustration. “God, Laney, don’t stop. That feels wonderful.”

Langdon smiled softly and pressed the pads of her thumbs into the muscles running up the back of his neck, smoothly freeing the tension he held there. “Rough day?” she asked quietly.

“Mmn,” Connor couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, nearly losing himself in the sensation of her fingers. “Nothing too bad, just busy,” he managed to mumble.

“Liar.” She wove her fingers through his hair to massage his scalp with one hand, and he didn’t think to stop her when the other hand began to unbutton his shirt. The warm flats of her palms slid into the collar of his shirt and along his shoulders, her fingers like small kisses as they worked down his arms from inside the shirt.

The contact had his blood running hot and he stifled a moan of pleasure as her hands caressed his chest. He dropped his head back, resting it on her shoulder and relaxing to the sound of her calm heartbeat. “You’re a liar,” he grumbled, his body relaxing into the soft cradle she made behind him.

“Nice come back.” Langdon chewed on her lower lip for a moment, weighing the brilliantly terrible plan she had come up with after talking with Eoin. No, she shook herself, there’s no way she could work up the courage to do it. With Connor pressed against her, she almost balked. Suddenly, it seemed like a horrible idea. They had reached a very close companionship recently. What if she messed it up? What if he’d changed his mind about her? Connor released a heavy sigh as she found a knot in one of his shoulders and she worked to release the muscle. It was his apparent exhaustion that renewed her frustration, and she steeled herself to be bold.

The progression was so natural, so wonderful, that Connor wouldn’t normally have noticed. However, the sensation of Laney’s light kisses along the back of his neck had the blood pooling between his legs so forcefully it made him dizzy. He moaned. “Laney,” his voice was husky and low.

“Hm?” she breathed against his skin, kissing the angle of his jaw, the pressure of her hands moving down to the small of his back.

He drew in a sharp breath as her teeth nipped at his ear lobe. “Laney, what are you doing?” He wanted to sit up, to stop her, but her hands had him nearly at her mercy and he was harder than he could ever remember, ridiculously tenting the front of his pants.

Her hands dug into his sides, finding every muscle that tried to put up a modicum of resistance. “If you don’t know, then I’m not doing it right,” she purred.

He felt her breasts crushed against his back before realizing that his hands were stroking up her legs where they were wrapped around his sides. Massaging her with teasing touches as much as she did to him. His finger tips explored the smooth skin of her calves, the crease at the back of her knee, the outside of her thigh, moving higher as her skirt gave way to his searching. She stiffened and sucked in a breath as he traced the lacy edge of her panties, her fingers stilling against his back for the first time. It drew him from the haze she had created, and he started to hate himself. “Laney?”

She opened her eyes, not even realizing she was holding so still. His hand was still against her thigh and she hoped he didn’t notice the damp heat radiating where her hips were cradling his ass. What a piss poor choice wearing a skirt today. He had almost brought her to cum with the slightest touch and the thought terrified her. “Yeah?”

Connor shifted, half turning, craning his neck to get a look at her face. Langdon suddenly regretted placing herself in the corner of the sofa. His eyes were an addled mix as his mind tried to scrutinize through the haze of lust. The look made Langdon’s stomach flutter with an unease that she couldn’t discern. He raised a brow, expecting an answer to an unasked question.

Langdon flushed guiltily then shook her head. “Never mind,” she mumbled, struggling to free herself of the sofa and his weight.

“Never mind?” he asked, catching her hands and wrapping them across his chest, pinning her between his back and the couch. “No, no, you stay right here.” He entwined their fingers seamlessly and brought one hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “What are you thinking?”

Langdon shrugged. “I don’t know, Connor.”

The corner of his mouth drew back into a wry smile as he feathered kisses across her palm and wrist. “Yes you do, you’ve been thinking all evening.” She flushed again and turned away from his probing gaze. She gasped as he drew one of her fingers into his mouth, her face heating as he drew it back out, nipping at the tip. He released that hand and caught her chin, turning her back toward him. Her eyes swirled with heat and confusion. “Why?” he asked simply.

She furrowed her brow then pressed her eyes shut with a wince. “It’s stupid,” she mumbled.

His fingers traced along her jaw and lips, drawing tiny sighs from her. “Tell me,” his voice held no quarter with its command.

“I… I just thought…” she groaned inwardly. “I’m sick of not remembering, Connor. And I just figured that there must be some reason I’m dating you.” She felt his spine stiffen and instantly regretted her words. She had done a horrible job explaining herself. “No, that came out wrong.”

Connor released her hands and sat forward, dragging his palm across his face. Langdon was acutely aware of the lack of his weight and warmth against her and mourned the loss instantly. “So,” he said stiffly. “You figure that we must be together for the sex? Since you would have nothing to do with me otherwise?”

The sarcasm in his voice didn’t mask the hurt, and Langdon felt her throat closing up. “No, Connor,” she reached for him, his shoulder jerking away from her touch.

He stood sharply and began pacing. “You know, Lang, I’ve been so patient.” She flinched. He had reverted back to using ‘Lang.’ Somehow that was a blow she couldn’t shield herself from. “I have done everything I could think of to make you comfortable, to help you recover. But I miss you.” He stopped and faced her for a second. “Not you, but the real you.” He turned away and resumed his pacing. “I tried everything. I mean, I took you to the same place we went for our six-month anniversary. I hold you every night until you fall asleep. I just can’t take much more of this, Lang.”

The words did more than sting. Langdon felt as though she had been slapped across the face. Tears welled behind her closed eyes and her chest burned. She choked back the tears and anger exploded to replace it. “God Damnit, Connor!” She was on her feet. “You just don’t get it!” He turned, surprised at her sudden outburst, but regarded her coolly. It enraged her even further. “I see it. I see it all. Every time I don’t react the way you expect me to, every time I say something that you feel is out of character, it shows. It’s in your eyes, the expression on your face. I see that hurt. And I know that I caused it. What the hell do you want me to do?!”

He said nothing, so she continued, her voice rising in volume and pitch. “I can spout off information from the classes that I have somehow forgotten. I can perform procedures that I learned in the past year that I can’t remember learning. Drug names, management plans, stats and epidemiology… It’s there. I know it is. I can’t remember, but I can do. It scares the hell out of me!” She closed the distance between them, her hands clenched into small fists. “And I come home and get no rest from it. You want me to feel sorry for you. Why?”

She jabbed him in the chest. “You know we’re missing out on something and I can feel it too. There’s more than companionship and staying on opposite sides of the bed. Hell, that already existed when we were friends, so what else is there? You’re so afraid of scaring me that we’re dying.” She froze, realization of her words dawning on her as much as Connor. Her voice dropped, suddenly exhausted and she fixed her eyes on Connor’s shoes. “I’d rather be scared than hurt and dying, Connor. I don’t know exactly what would be lost, but I know I don’t want to lose it.”

A long silence stretched out in the room, broken only by the chatting of sports casters on the news. Langdon was afraid to raise her eyes. Terrified that she’d look up and see hate in Connor’s eyes. But she couldn’t move. Finally, slowly, Connor’s hands closed around her upper arms. There was a moment when Langdon didn’t know if she was coming or going, if he was about to push her away. But he drew her into the warm protective circle of his arms. Holding her to his chest as though she were something precious. She pressed her face into the warm skin exposed by his open shirt and mumbled, “Stop sparing my feelings, Connor. It’s not working.”

His arms closed tightly around her waist, and he started laughing. It was a full body laugh that began deep in his chest and shook his entire body. Langdon glanced up, surprised by his reaction, sceptical and mildly annoyed. “I didn’t mean for you to laugh at me, Connor.” Her anger bubbled back to the surface as he continued to laugh and she tried to push free of his grasp.

Connor struggled to control his laughter. “No, Laney,” he chuckled again, holding her firmly against his body.

“Damnit, Connor, if you don’t care just say so.” She renewed her efforts to free herself, struggling against his hold.

Connor managed rein in his laughter, though only because he was swallowing a moan. “Laney,” he groaned. The change in his voice drew her attention and she stopped moving. Meeting his gaze angrily, she started as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. “Does it feel, to you, like I don’t care?”

Langdon opened her mouth, but the snarky response died on her lips as the evidence of his arousal pressed into her stomach. She cursed her fair complexion as she flushed a deep shade of red. Then his lips were on hers as he proceeded to kiss her senseless. She didn’t have time to consider the strangeness of his kiss or the ramifications. Langdon simply held on to his solid frame as his tongue plundered her mouth, taking without mercy until she was panting and trembling in his arms. Connor’s mouth drew up at the corners into a sexy half grin. “You have to forgive me, but you are so gorgeous when you’re angry.”

Langdon furrowed her brow, but found her mind quite incapable of forming coherent thought. The aftermath of his kiss had her toes curling, and the only thing her body registered beyond the pleasure was that it felt so right. Connor chuckled again and kissed her pouting lips softly. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Laney. I was laughing at myself. I am such a fool. No need to expound on that,” he pressed a finger to her lips. “It took you practically knocking me on my ass and jumping on top of me before I figured it out last time. And while you took the initiative, there was a blow up afterward anyway. And you told me that you were a big girl…”

“And I can take care of myself,” Langdon finished for him. He raised a brow and she blushed again. “I remembered that night over a week ago.”

“Oh, well then…”

“Well, it’s true.”

Connor grinned. “I love it when you put your foot down.”

Langdon tried to frown, but Connor was kissing her again, the corners of her mouth, the furrows of her brow, her temples. “I can tell you no if I want to,” she muttered petulantly.

“Mmn,” he hummed against her neck. “But do you want to?” He found a particularly sensitive spot below her ear and caressed it with his mouth. She moaned, heat flooding her body. She dug her fingers into his arms, holding on as her knees gave out. “Laney,” he growled, tearing his mouth away. “You haven’t answered me.”

She blinked, confused at the whiplash of the sensations. One of Connor’s hands stroked idly across her breast, teasing her. “What?” she gasped.

He rested his forehead against hers. “I asked if you want me to stop. Because if you want me to stop, you better say so now.”

Langdon growled and pushed him backwards causing him to stumble until the backs of his knees collided with the couch and he fell onto it. He snagged her hips as he fell pulling her down on top of him. She released an indignant squeak as she landed. Steadying herself against his shoulders, she straddling his thighs and glared down at him. “Connor Patrick Kennedy, if you so much as mention doing anything other than screwing my brains out, so help me, I’ll…”

He wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck and pulled her down for another hungry, punishing kiss. His free hand worked her shirt free of her skirt and slid up under the fabric, his palm running up the length of her back. The heat from his hands lit small trails of fire along her skin that had her clutching at his shoulders.

Langdon pulled away from his lips, trailing a path of kisses, nibbles, and licks from his chin to his chest, following her fingers as she unbuttoned his shirt. When she reached his stomach, she sat back and played her fingers across the exposed skin, giggling as he squirmed.

He captured her hands suppressing a chuckle, “Hey now. None of that.” She leaned in and kissed him hard, her tongue splitting his lips and tasting the corners of his mouth. He groaned, releasing wrists to seize her hips, pulling her flush against his body. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, trapping them momentarily against his sides.

She cupped his face and gave him the most devastating kiss she could muster. He was so enthralled with the sensations she wrought that he didn’t recover to try to free his arms for a few seconds. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted… Argh! He growled and flailed, nearly tearing his shirt off.

Connor caught the hem of her shirt and whisked it over her head, leaving her free just long enough to discard it on the floor before pulling her close and latching onto her breast. Langdon gasped and wove her fingers into his hair; the combined feeling of his mouth and the lace of her bra left her squirming, tension building in her belly, and a rosy heat spreading across her chest. It was sweet torture. Her hips rocked against his, looking for the friction that would bring her relief.

He groaned; his slacks were becoming painfully restrictive, but did little to protect him from the heat radiating from her core, which now was only shielded by a thin lace barrier. A primitive part of him wanted to throw her down and reclaim her in the most basic of ways. He knew she wanted it too, or she would want it if she knew everything about herself. He switched to her other breast, his fingers filling the void left by his mouth, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

Langdon was slowly losing control of her body and mind. All she could focus on were the sensations wrought by his clever fingers and lips. “Oh!” she burst out suddenly. Pushing at his arms to free herself.

“What?” he froze, trying to get a handle on his lust before he embarrassed himself.

Langdon shifted, sliding off his lap and pushing herself up to standing. “I just remembered something,” she whispered, a look of wonder passing over her face.

“What?” Connor sat forward, an eager look in his eyes.

A playful grin pulled at her passion-swollen lips and she dashed off.

Connor darted after her, her giggles taunting him as she disappeared into the bedroom. “Laney,” he growled, ducking through the bedroom door. He stopped short, glancing around the room in wonder. Every flat surface from the dresser to the nightstand was littered with softly glowing candles. He finally met her warm gaze from where she was leaning against the bathroom doorjamb. “When did you have time to do this?”

She nibbled on her lower lip, glancing at her hands before meeting his eyes again. “Before dinner,” she whispered. “Do you like it?”

The corner of his mouth drew back into a lop-sided smile, a dimple punctuating the boyish expression on his face. He crooked his finger and beckoned her. “Come here.” She couldn’t resist the look on his face and scurried to his side. He spun her around, hugging her back to his chest. “You know, you shouldn’t run away from me like that.” One large palm splayed across her bare stomach, the other arm wrapping around her shoulder, fingers dipping into the lacy cup of her bra and tweaking her nipple. He kissed her bare shoulder, tracing a line to her neck and behind her ear, pausing to tease her, “Of course I like it, it’s beautiful.”

Langdon sighed, her body relaxing into the protective warmth of his sturdy frame as he resumed his tormenting kisses, the heat of his mouth on her air-chilled skin raising goose bumps across her entire body. His fingers traced small, delicate patterns across her stomach and he dipped his other hand into the cup of her bra to caress the entire weight of her breast in his palm.

She stretched an arm behind her to weave her fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, holding him to her. It wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She craned her neck, turning to look over her shoulder and guided his mouth to hers. His fingers tightened reflexively against her stomach and the pure possessiveness of the action sent a shiver down her spine. He chuckled darkly against her lips. “What are the bags for?”

Langdon started, she had completely forgotten about the bags. “Oh, the bags.” She tried to form a complete thought, but his hand had left her stomach and lay against her thigh, slowly drawing up the hem of her skirt with small teasing movements of his fingers.

“The bags?” he reminded her.

“Um, I packed one for you and one for me,” she said, her voice sounding husky.

He had successfully worked her skirt up high enough to slide his palm along her bare thigh, his thumb stroking the crease of flesh where her leg met her hip. “And what are they for?” He kissed her lips to smother a moan.

“I was going to take you away this weekend,” she breathed.

“Oh?” He turned her in his arms, backing her toward the bed. “Was?”

“Am?” Langdon let her fingers trace the flat planes of his bare chest, trying to drag her brain from the haze Connor had created. “I booked us a room out in Dingle. The train leaves early tomorrow morning.” She let out a squeak of surprise as the backs of her legs came in contact with the mattress. “If you want.”

Connor raised a brow. “You seem to think you’re going to be able to get up out of this bed early tomorrow.”

Langdon shivered at the lust darkening his eyes and the promise in his voice. “We can sleep on the train?” she offered lamely.

“Girl, I don’t plan on letting you sleep for the next month.”


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you need a good getaway...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there... here's 9. I hope you're enjoying this :)   
> ~ ewebie

“Girl, I don’t plan on letting you sleep for the next month,” Connor growled, grabbing the back of her knees and dumping her onto the bed.

“You’ll wear me out,” Langdon giggled, scooting back toward the pillows.

Connor followed her across the bed in a predatory manner, his eyes glittering with dark promise. He trapped her beneath him just before she reached the headboard and took advantage of it. He planted a hand on either side of her head, leaning over her, and captured his mouth with hers, delving his tongue into the depths of her mouth. The frustration of the past few weeks skimmed below the surface, as he methodically possessed her lips.

Langdon sighed against his lips, the sensations overwhelming her as her hands travelled feverishly over his body. She traced the shifting muscles in his shoulders and arms before grasping at his back and pulling him down with a strong desire to feel his weight pressing against her.

Connor groaned and captured her wrists, pinning them to the pillow above her head. Langdon mewed with disappointment as he pulled back from the kiss. “Leave those there,” he commanded, squeezing her wrists for emphasis.

Langdon started to object, “But-” cutting off when her breath caught in her throat as Connor’s lips found a particularly sensitive spot just under her jaw line.

She didn’t miss the fleeting smile that changed the shape of his lips before he returned his attention to her neck. His talented mouth moved down her neck, nipping, licking, and feathering kisses in a combination of sensations that had her writhing in need. He let his hands wander, caress, possess her body, intent on memorizing her curves again. As his hand reached her breast, she arched into his palm. His knowing fingers toying with her, tweaking until her nipple hardened into a tight pebble. So absorbed in his ministerings, she didn’t notice when he released her bra, only becoming aware with the scrape of lace along her nipples.

Connor tugged the bra free and pinned her arms back down when she reached for him. He made a tisking sound and shook his head, “Keep them there.” He kissed her pouting lips, drawing her lower lip between his teeth. She moaned trying to follow as he pulled his lips away only to drop her head back to the pillows as his lips trailed down her neck to the valley between her breasts.

His mouth latched onto the breast his hand had recently vacated, kissing a spiral that came increasingly closer to her pert nipple. Langdon squirmed, moaning each time he moved away. “Connor,” she pleaded.

He chuckled against her skin, nipping gently. “I think your skirt is getting in the way.” He plucked at the button and tugged the zipper down as he continued to tease her. It was with great regret that he shifted off of her to remove her skirt. She lifted her hips as he tugged it down her hips. His eyes followed its progress as first the dark lace of her thong gave way to smooth, creamy thighs, the cute dimples of her knees, her sleek calves, and finally the polished tips of her toes.

He quickly shed his pants and boxers and returned, kneeling between her legs and pausing to appreciate the view. Her modesty, affected both by their state of undress and his scrutiny, caused a blush to suffuse her pale skin. “God you’re beautiful,” he whispered, running his fingers slowly up the outside of her calf. She watched his face as he studied her carefully as if cataloguing every feature his eyes passed over. His eyes flickered over the still fading marks on her knees and he stiffened momentarily before stooping to kiss each knee.

Connor met her eyes fleetingly, letting the corner of his mouth twitch in a sly smile. His lips returned to her knee and slowly worked up along her thigh, passing over the scrap of lace to kiss the depression just inside her hipbone. He pressed light kisses across her tummy, enjoying the way she sucked in a breath every time he touched her.

When he finally closed his lips around the peak of her breast, Langdon’s eyes fluttered closed and she arched against him, a gasp issuing from her parted lips. Her hand slid over his shoulder weaving her fingers into the dark waves of his hair, clutching him to her. Connor released her nipple and grunted, catching her hand, kissing it and replacing it on the pillow. “Keep them there,” he growled.

She gave a frustrated sigh, “It’s not going to happen.”

He gathered her wrists in one large palm and pinned them securely to the bed. “Do I have to do everything myself?” He cocked a brow, humour and desire turning his hazel eyes into a glittering green.

Connor was playing with her, teasing her in the most horrible and wonderful way, and the look alone was intense enough to send a rush of heat straight to her belly. It should be a crime for him to look that good, she thought, her eyes flitting over his body before meeting his stare. In the soft glow of the candles, his tanned skin shone bronze, the rolling hills of his muscled arms and shoulders were accented, his hair seemed darker than its usual brown, and his eyes were glowing from behind dark lashes; he was an Adonis, dark as sin and equally tempting. Her tongue peaked out from the hot recesses of her mouth, wetting her lips and he watched its progress before it disappeared.

A growl started low in his throat and he slanted his mouth over hers, tormenting her until she was breathless with want. She twisted her wrists in his grip as his knee wedged firmly between her thighs. He pulled back to watch her face as his fingers pushed aside the thin lace barrier of her thong and ran through her wet slit. Her hips bucked as his fingertips grazed her clit. Her face heated under his gaze and she let out a gasp as two of his fingers slid inside her. She was hot, throbbing, and wet for him. Her arms tensed and she moaned as he leisurely stroked her into a frenzy of need. “God, Connor,” she panted. “Let me go.”

He bent his head and kissed a short trail along her collarbone and up her neck. “No.”

She shivered as his breath stirred the tendrils of hair beside her ear, his fingers curling inside her, pressing against the most sensitive region with knowing movements, and sending shards of pleasure through her body. “Please,” she whined as his teeth closed on her ear lobe. “I want to touch you.”

She cried out as his thumb flicked over her clit before pressing firmly on the little nub. She lost the ability to form all coherent thought, bright lights flashing behind her eyelids as she threw her head back, her body arching in the power of the orgasm that washed over her.

His mouth came down on hers, swallowing the scream of her release, and he continued to feather kisses across her face, neck, and shoulders as she slowly recovered. “I let you touch me, and this will be over too soon,” he groaned, her slick muscles clamping down tightly on his fingers as he slid them from her wet channel. “I want you too much.”

His fingers were drawing small patterns across her heaving chest when she finally let her eyes flutter open. A self-satisfied grin turned the corners of his mouth as he bent to kiss her flushed lips. He rested his forehead against hers, taking a calming breath with her. She sighed, “Can I have my hands back yet?”

He smiled, “I’m not sure I’m ready to let you go just yet.”

“Connor,” she whined, dragging her smooth calf along the outside of his rough leg. He sighed at the sensation, his palm sliding up her ribcage to cup her breast. She keened softly, “Not fair.” A shudder ran through her. It was as if he knew exactly where to touch her, how to kiss her, when to hold perfectly still to tease her. “Stop teasing me.”

He chuckled darkly, his mouth finding all the sensitive places she didn’t know she had. “I want to make sure this is exceptional,” he murmured against her skin.

Langdon twisted beneath him, wrapping her legs around him and drawing him against her. “Exceptional?” she heaved.

“Mmn,” he hummed, his tongue flicking across one of her tender nipples. “You know, first impressions and all.”

Her breath caught as his mouth closed over her breast, drawing hard on the sensitive flesh. She struggled not to giggle, “First impressions? Connor, you cad.”

He released her breast from his mouth with a slight pop and he gazed down at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Cad?” He twisted his fingers into the thin lace strap of her thong and yanked, tearing the fine material aside. “Now I’m a cad.”

Langdon chewed on her lower lip and returned his stare with humour to match. Her thigh slid up to his hip, cradling him and opening herself to him. She saw him tensing with restraint and she pushed. He wasn’t ready for it and he tumbled to his back, Langdon sprawling across his chest. She giggled and pounced on him, catching his face between her palms and kissing him deeply.

He groaned, his hands grasping her hips where she ground against him. She released his mouth to pay homage to his exposed chest, kissing, licking, and scoring her nails teasingly over his ribs and shoulders. She smiled at the small moans it drew from him and rose up on her knees, trailing her fingers down his stomach to tickle just below his belly button. He pressed his eyes shut with a grunt for a moment and opened them, blinking slowly to bring her into focus. “You’re torturing me,” he griped.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling as she shifted over him, slowly impaling herself on his erection. They moaned in unison at the sensation and Langdon’s hands came to his chest as she fought to balance herself. Connor thrust his hips, catching her off balance and she tipped forward, bringing her close enough that he could catch her mouth in a passionate kiss. He wove his fingers into the hair on the nape of her neck, trapping her against him. She whimpered against his lips, her hands gripping his shoulders.

She panted when he released her lips, his arm wrapping around her lower back, pulling her down further so he could worship her breasts. She choked out a cry, her arms beginning to shake with the effort of holding herself up.

In the other room, Langdon’s phone rang loudly, startling her as her head shot up. Connor growled, rolling her beneath him. “Let it go to voicemail.” He took up a leisurely pace, drawing slowly and almost completely from her before thrusting back inside her as she lifted her hips to meet his. His teeth nipped teasingly along her neck, drawing a series of moans from her.

Langdon gulped in a breath, the sweet friction building between their bodies driving her closer to the edge. “Like… I c-could leave,” she ground out, pulling his mouth down to meet hers. His tongue swept hungrily through her mouth to match the movement of his body into hers. She drew his lower lip into her mouth, nibbling on the tender morsel, releasing him as she gasped, her body clenching around his.

Connor lost the tenuous grip he had on his control and kissed her with all the frustration, tension, and emotion that he had let build in the past days. He picked up his pace, thrusting into her with passionate abandon. She cried out and buried her face against his shoulder, tensing and biting down on the soft flesh she found there. Her inner muscles tightened around him, her body shuddering as she came.

He echoed her cry with a yell of his own as he emptied himself inside of her. He lowered himself, dropping his head against her chest as both of their hearts beat a rapid cadence. Langdon’s fingers tangled through the sweat soaked tips of his hair as she panted. He sighed and turned his face, absently kissing whatever skin he could find. “God, Laney,” he groaned, shifting to find her mouth. She fought the urge to smile as his mouth caressed her with gentle pressure. “I love you, Laney.”

She stretched and wrapped her arms around him, smoothing her fingers up and down his back and mewled with disappointment as he shifted off of her.

He chuckled when he turned on his side and drew her into the curve of his body. He nuzzled her neck, kissing the sensitive skin just behind her ear. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he purred. A shiver ran through her at the husky tone of his voice and he laughed again, cupping her breast softly in his palm. “What time is that train in the morning?”

“Seven,” she gasped.

He growled. “Seven? On a weekend? Remind me to punish you for that later.” She squeaked as he pinched her tender nipple and entwined her fingers with his to keep him from doing so again. “Spoil-sport,” he murmured. She mumbled a response that he couldn’t discern and he smiled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. He pulled the blankets up around them and pulled her snugly against him.

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

 

~o~

 

Paul grumbled and barely suppressed the urge to hurl his phone across the room. Why the fuck wouldn’t she answer her phone?! When he got his hands on her, he was going to kill her! The corner of his mouth twisted into a grin and he snorted. Well, killing her was the whole point, wasn’t it?

The door swung open and he casually followed the newcomer into the semi-private snook in the corner of the pub. The man didn’t say a word, and Paul had learned that he wasn’t one for small talk. The man raised an eyebrow over irises of almost black, and Paul found himself squirming under the scrutiny. The man made him vastly uneasy.

Paul gently set the boxy knapsack on the floor by the man’s feet. The man nodded, slid a bulky envelope across the table and stood, collecting the bag. He smirked, winked at Paul and strode out of the pub.

Paul quickly tucked the envelope into his coat and swiped at his brow with the back of his hand, trying to clear some of the sweat that had collected in the past few minutes. He signalled the bartender for a drink and downed the whisky as soon as it was in his hands. Almost there, he thought, heaving a sigh of relief. Almost there.

 

~o~

 

Langdon mumbled in her sleep, the teasing fingers stirring a vivid dream. When she breathed his name, it came out almost as a moan and Connor smiled. He feathered kisses across her taut stomach, his hands firmly moulding her breasts into the shape of his palms. Langdon groaned, shifting to press into the warmth of his body, her hands reaching for him.

He chuckled, catching one hand and pressing a kiss into her palm before drawing her index finger into his mouth. Langdon sucked in a breath, her eyes fluttering open, filled with a dazed expression. He released her finger. “Morning,” he purred, dipping his head to brush his lips over hers.

She cooed and stretched out beneath him, squinting into the dark room. “What time is it?”

“Time to get up if you want to catch that train.” He kissed her temple and pushed himself onto his knees. “We’ve got to leave here in 10 minutes.” The shocked look on her face drew a smile to his. “Good thing you’re already packed. Now get dressed and I’ll make us some coffee.” He swatted her thigh playfully as he rose from the bed then pulled on his boxers as he headed for the kitchen.

Langdon rolled onto her stomach, peered at the clock, and smothered a groan. What was I thinking booking a seven o’clock train? she wondered.

An hour later, Langdon curled up, resting her head against Connor’s chest as the train lurched into motion. Trains always made her sleepy, and it was a good two hours to Tralee. Connor kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. “Tired?”

She nuzzled the v of skin that peaked out from the collar of his button-down shirt. “Someone kept me up all night,” she mumbled.

He chuckled and the sound warmed her down to her toes. “Well, get some sleep now then. You might be kept up late again tonight.” She poked him playfully in the ribs and snuggled into his warmth, drifting off into a pleasant doze.

 

~o~

 

Dr. Maslow stared at the body he was preparing for burial. “What the hell?” There was something out of place. Years of performing the hospital required post-mortems had given him an instinctive sense of when there was a pathological problem, and now was no different.

This hadn’t been his post-mortem, but he frequently would make the autopsied bodies ready for a funeral home. He prided himself on his technique, making sure the families of the deceased would not be aware of the necessary cutting his job demanded.

He removed the organs from the body cavity, laying each one out with care. He wrinkled his nose, the smell of formalin much stronger than it should be. Sorting carefully, he isolated the offending organs: liver, kidney, heart. The remainder seemed to belong, but those three were older, like something from his preserved collection. He stormed into the storage room, his eyes meticulously scanning the shelves. Reaching the rear of the room he found what he was looking for.

Small splatter marks of formalin were clear on the floor in front of the shelf. He pulled the tubs out one at a time and opened them. Empty… All of them were empty. “Oh my God,” he whispered taking a quick count. There were over thirty organs missing. If the preserved ones were going into the recently deceased bodies, then the fresh ones were…

Holy shit.

He dashed back to his office, pulling the autopsy report for the patient he had just been working on. Skimming it, he held his breath. Patient had died of… heart failure. That was all it said. No rational, just heart failure. No atherosclerosis, no infarction, no emboli, just failure. He frowned and read the external review on his way back to the autopsy room.

He painstakingly reviewed the body, finding what he was praying would be absent. A small needle wound that was uncharted, undocumented, just visible in the soft tissue behind the ear. Maslow felt his gut clench and he turned back to the chart, searching for the name of the person who had filed the report.

He grimaced when he found it… Paul Cavatoni.

Maslow picked up the phone and called the security desk. “I need the Gardai here, now.”

 

~o~

 

Connor watched the station sign as the train pulled away. They were nearly to Tralee and he’d have to wake her soon. Something in him rebelled against the idea, loving the way she felt curled against his side.

The shrill ring of her mobile made him jump and he dug into her bag to turn it off before it woke her. He muttered a curse under his breath and answered the phone, speaking as softly as he could. “Hello?”

“Uh… Connor?” came the voice on the other end.

“Yeah, this is. Who is this?” he kept his voice low as Laney stirred against his side.

“Hey, it’s Paul. I was looking for Lang…”

“Sorry, mate. She’s sleeping.” Connor furrowed his brow. What the hell was Paul doing calling so early?

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb. Hey, look. I was hoping to run through some work things later today. Is there a good time for me to come over?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Not really, Paul. We’re actually on our way out of town for the weekend. It’s sort of last minute, but I’m sure Laney will catch up with you on Monday.” The train conductor came over the loud speaker and announced Tralee as the next stop.

“Oh. Ok then. See ya round, Connor.”

“Later.” Connor ended the call and stared at the phone for a few minutes. That was the third time he’d called in as many days. Strange, the man had always struck him as somewhat anti-social. There was also something that unsettled him about the tone in Paul’s voice. Like poorly disguised anger. He ran his fingers through Laney’s hair. Maybe he’d have a chat with Paul when they got back.

Langdon’s fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt as she started to wake. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and kissed her forehead. “Hey, babe. Wake up. We’re going to hop a bus in a few minutes.”

 

~o~

 

This time Paul lost his temper. He picked up the nearest book and, with a roar, sent it smashing into the wall. “Away for the weekend?!” he bellowed. He started pacing. There was no way he could wait for Monday. He needed this done.

He paused. Away for the weekend? he thought again. Knowing Connor and Lang, they weren’t going to sit in a spa for the next two days. They were much more the outdoorsy couple. They’d be biking, or hiking, or surfing… A slow smile spread across his face. Accidents happened all the time when people engaged in risky activities like that. He just needed to figure out where they were going.

The announcement had been for Tralee, so they must have been on the train. From the station there, they’d have to take a bus to their final destination. He just needed to get to Tralee and track them down from there. He could do that. Stuffing a few items into a backpack, he locked up his flat and headed for the train station. This way, he’d catch them by surprise.


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tied up... Knocked down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go... My version of getting twisty about 5 years ago. Hope you're still enjoying it. I know it changes demographics rather quickly.   
> ~ ewebie

They climbed off the bus and retrieved their packs from the luggage compartment. Dingle wasn’t a very big town, if you could even call it a town. It was more of a small village on the far southwest coast. A throwback to the picturesque simplicity of small-town Ireland, but it had a bus depot at the bottom of the Strand and the Mall, and the two emerged into the bright, seaside morning. There was a brisk, cold breeze coming in from the harbour, and Langdon was glad she packed warm layers for the weekend; they were going to need them.

She dropped her heavy camping backpack and stretched her arms over her head, rising up on her toes. Connor watched as her shirt and fleece pulled up in the front, exposing a flash of soft flesh and bellybutton. A grin crossed his face and as he crept up behind her and slid a hand across her stomach.

Langdon let out a shriek and a giggle as she folded over his hand to protect the vulnerable skin. “Your hands are cold!” she squealed.

He chuckled against the side of her neck. “I know. I thought you could warm them up for me.” A small shiver ran through her and she laced her fingers through his to save herself from the cold. He rested his chin on her shoulder, “So where do you have us going from here?”

Her stomach rumbled loudly and she blushed. “Well, food first apparently.”

“Are you on the menu?” he nipped at the skin on her neck.

She let out a squeak. “Behave!” She turned in his arms and grinned. “I figured we could find a place to eat here in town, then rent our bikes and head out toward Fahan. We have reservations at one of the B&Bs out there.”

Connor raised a brow. “Do you think they have thick walls?”

Langdon’s eyes widened and her face turned red before she smacked his arm. “Connor Kennedy!” She couldn’t maintain a disapproving expression when faced with his roguish grin and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers. “It makes me so happy to see you laugh like that.”

She bit her lower lip and gazed into his warm green-brown eyes. “You make me happy,” she said shyly.

“Stick with me, kid,” he murmured, kissing her. Her stomach growled again and they both chuckled. “Ok, I get it,” he laughed. “You need food. I best keep you fed.” He released her to swing his bag up onto his shoulders. “You pick, I’ll pay.” He grabbed her bag with one hand and her hand with the other. She squeezed it affectionately and tugged him down the Strand looking for a place to eat.

 

~o~

 

It was past midday when Paul got off the train in Tralee and glanced around the station. It was one of the older stations built in the early 1900s and probably never fully renovated. There were pigeons wandering the floor and Paul grumbled, kicking at the birds. Stupid birds, the hell are they doing inside anyway? Rats with wings.

He found the bus desk and rang the bell, barely keeping a frown from his lips as a rather overweight woman trundled over to the window. “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice heavily accented and he guessed she was from Cork.

“I sure hope you can, ma’am,” he plastered a warm grin on his face. “I’m so sorry, but my brother and his girlfriend came through here earlier today. I was supposed to be here, but my plane was delayed in Dublin and now I don’t know where they’ve gone. I had the bus route written down somewhere and I can’t seem to find it. You haven’t seen them by any chance, have you?”

He slid a picture of Lang and Connor under the divider. The woman picked it up with her pudgy fingers and squinted. “Sorry, honey. I don’t think so.”

“Well, shoot.” Paul crammed his hands in his pockets and tried to look helpless.

“It was awfully quiet here this morning. Maybe Sean saw them,” she suggested and turned over her shoulder, shouting into the back room. “Sean! C’mere! You seen two kids come through here this morning?” She turned to Paul, “They’re American as well?” He nodded. She resumed shouting over her shoulder. “An American couple, cute as pie.” An unintelligible string of words poured from the back room and the woman turned around with a big toothy grin. “He said that the two American kids went off to Dingle on the route 503 bus. Does that sound right?”

Paul took the picture back from her and smiled broadly. “You know, it does. You’ve saved my hide.”

The woman blushed, “No worries, dearie. You need a ticket on the next one?”

He nodded and paid for the ticket, giving the woman a wink before heading out for toward the buses. “Stupid bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

 

~o~

 

Dr. Maslow massaged his temples as he spoke. “It’ll take me a few hours to pull up all of his reports. We don’t catalogue by pathologist the same way with the SHOs. He shouldn’t have been signing off on many by himself, but we’ve been a little understaffed and he was less monitored than he should have been.”

The inspector in charge nodded. “Give me a ballpark figure here.”

Maslow sighed and looked up at the man, his imposing figure made insignificant by the flashing temper in his eyes. “At least thirty.”

“How much money would that make?” the inspector asked quietly.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Maslow shook his head. “I guess if someone could sell them, or had a buyer set up, I would figure at least fifty grand per organ.”

“That’s quite a profit there.” He scratched the back of his neck, ruffling the salt and pepper strands in dire need of a trim. “Any idea where we could find him now?”

Maslow frowned. “He was supposed to be in this morning. He called in sick, but I got the feeling he just wanted the weekend off.”

Inspector Hynes turned to the nearest officer. “Put a trace on his phone and credit cards. I want someone at his flat in the next fifteen minutes.” He turned back to Maslow. “Stick close to your phone. If he shows up here, call me.”

Maslow accepted the card from the inspector and nodded miserably, dropping his head into his hands. This was a career ender.

 

~o~

 

Langdon smiled into the sun as they glided down the coastal road near Ventry. She turned toward Connor and yelled over the sound of the wind. “There should be a beach up here soon.”

Connor glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. He couldn’t hear her, the wind in his helmet making it near impossible to hear anything. Granted, the scenery made up for it. The coast of Ireland was gorgeous. Here on the Dingle peninsula, it was rolling hills, green farmland, rocky shores, and Mount Eagle looming in the distance. It was breathtaking. He pulled his bike over as they reached a fork in the road and flashed Langdon a dazzling smile. “Sorry, what was that?”

Langdon skidded to a stop next to him and glanced up at the road sign. “Well it’s good to know exactly how far we are from Dublin, but is that really necessary?”

Connor chuckled. “I’m thinking that way,” he stated pointed to the right.

“Really? Why there?”

“It says ‘Conor Pass.’ That sounds like a place I should be.” He grinned broadly and Langdon shook her head. “So where to, oh wise map guide?”

Langdon squinted at the sign. “We should head toward Ventry Cross. There’s a beach there that would be a perfect place to stop for a snack, shouldn’t be more than a kilometre that way.”

“What is it with you and food today?” Connor reached out and tweaked her nose with his gloved hand.

Langdon wrinkled her nose. “Physical exertion makes me hungry.”

Connor gave her a lop-sided grin. “Well, then I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

She stuck out her tongue and kicked her bike back into motion. “Last one to the beach is a rotten egg.”

The road came to a rather abrupt end as they passed out of Ventry and right into the sloped dunes of the beach. Connor locked up his bike and helped Langdon do the same. Turning toward the shore, he let out a low whistle and took in the view. “Laney, this place is amazing.”

Langdon grinned and gazed out over the water, propping her sunglasses up on her forehead. Ventry Cross was situated on the sandy beach of a south-eastern facing cove. The high cliffs at the entrance of the inlet sheltered the small haven from the wind and most of the waves that tended to dominate the southwest of Ireland. Even at the end of January, the sun was warm, and without the wind, it was pleasant provided one was warmly dressed.

She dug a sack out of her backpack and wandered out onto the high sloping sand. She dropped down and waited for Connor to join her, handing him a sandwich from the sack. They ate in a companionable silence, listening to the waves roll into the shore. When they had finished, Connor wrapped his arms around Langdon and pulled her against his side. “Ok, travel guide. We ought to get rolling again. I don’t want you catching a chill out here.”

Langdon snuggled against the fleece he was wearing, tilting her head to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Well,” she turned west, gazing down the long beach. “Fahan is about five kilometres that way. And I was hoping to see DunBeag and Caher Conor while we’re out here this weekend.” She twisted looking east and up toward the village. “And about fifty metres that way is our B&B that I was hoping to see sooner.”

Connor turned and squinted up the road, catching sight of a cheery yellow building with large bay windows and a patio overlooking the bay. He grinned and dragged Langdon into his lap, kissing her softly. “You’re brilliant,” he murmured.

 

~o~

 

Hynes stormed into the flat searching for one of the Garda. “Tell me you have good news.”

One of his young officers straightened. “Sir, he’s not here.”

“I can see that,” he said, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

The officer cleared his throat. “He took off this morning. Apparently he was upset and stormed out around nine. A neighbour said he only had a small bag with him.”

“Do we have a picture and a description of what he was wearing?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hynes nodded slowly. “Good. Where did he go?”

The officer glanced around uncomfortably, “We’re still working on that.”

Hynes frowned, his mobile ringing and saving the officer from a scathing tirade. “Go ahead,” he barked into the phone. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, “Brilliant. Get me the name of someone down in Tralee.” He ended the call and turned back to the scene officer. “Clean this place up and put a man on the street. If he comes back, I want to know.”

 

~o~

 

Paul kicked the door closed and dropped onto the bed. He had gotten as far as Dingle and hit a dead end. From what he could gather, they came into town, and went… where? They didn’t rent a car; they rented bikes. He had figured they’d be coming back to Dingle for the night. But they weren’t registered at any of the local hostels, hotels, or B&Bs. Now, it was after dark, and his only lead was that they were going to look at ‘the ruins.’

He pushed himself off the bed and dumped a bag of brochures on the floor, rifling through the brightly coloured leaflets. He tossed aside one after another: Fungi the dolphin, The Orchard, Mara Beo Aquarium, Cooleen Theatre, The Marina. He stopped, eying an Irish heritage flyer – Caher Conor. He flipped to the back and read the blurb describing the small beehive cluster.

Paul snorted. It would be just like them to go there. And, he read on, there’s another place about a kilometre closer to Dingle, a promontory fort with multiple ruined walls overlooking the ocean. He would bet money they would go there. He’d just have to get there before them.

He set an alarm and turned to his bag on the floor, removing the semi automatic. He released the clip and studied it before reloading the gun. He was so close to getting free of this debt. So close.

 

~o~

 

Langdon groaned and rolled onto her back, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into fish and chips.”

Connor’s hand slid across her stomach, bunching her oversized t-shirt slightly as he stretched out on the bed beside her, admiring the image she made – relaxing on the bed wearing an old pair of his boxers and a beat up t-shirt. “You have to admit it was the best fish and chips you’ve ever had.”

She laid her hand atop his and smiled. “If you ever put a pile of chips near me again, so help me, Connor…”

He brushed his lips against hers. “You’d eat them in a heartbeat,” he murmured. She chuckled as he kissed her tenderly.

“Mmn, true,” her eyes fluttered back open, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

He propped himself up on his elbow and ran his thumb slowly across her cheek then along the border of her lower lip. “How are you doing?”

“Aside from a serious food coma…” His fingers felt so wonderful as they traced along her skin; she wanted to purr. “I’m good.”

“Just good?” he raised a brow, dropping his hand back to her stomach, plucking absently at the soft cotton of the shirt. He glanced down at his fingers, “It’s just, you know, that after last night, I wanted to make sure that you’re ok with everything.”

He raised his eyes to meet hers again and Langdon felt a blush suffuse her skin at the memory. He was always concerned for her, always making sure she was happy; the attention made her blush even more. Then there was something in his eyes as he gazed at her, a vulnerability that spoke directly to her heart. She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I um…” Her face turned a dark shade of crimson as she spoke hesitantly, “Last night was fantastic. It felt like you knew exactly how to touch me, where…”

Connor chuckled darkly. “To be fair, you have given me months of instruction on the subject.” Langdon let out a mortified squeak and buried her face in her hands, turning into his chest. He gently tugged on her wrists so he could see her face. “So, it was good sex, eh?”

She chewed on her lower lip. “Yes,” she said softly. “Was I… I mean, did you?”

Connor crooked his finger under her chin and tilted her lips to meet his, kissing her ever so sweetly, his lips moving gently against hers, heating her blood and tugging a soft moan from her. He rested his forehead against hers, sighing. “Laney, there is absolutely no way you could leave me unsatisfied.” He smiled wryly, “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Langdon shrugged, pulling on the sleeve of his shirt “It’s not about the sex being good, Connor, you know?”

He cocked his head to the side. “It isn’t?”

A laugh escaped her and she batted his arm playfully. “No. It was, but no. I don’t know. I’ve never been in this position before.”

He chuckled, “Missing memories aside, you should know that you’ve been in this position before.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Connor,” she rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

He waited, watching her as she struggled to find the right words. After a moment, he took her hand, studying each finger carefully as if to give her space to think, relinquishing control of her hand when she seemed to want it back. “What did you mean, then?”

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and she toyed absently with his fingers. “I’m just never the one who’s unsure in a relationship. I mean, normally, I’m waiting for the guy to catch up. And you seem so sure.”

“I am sure.”

“This, you and me.” She restlessly ran her fingers along his palm. “This feels right. Like, like I know that I’m supposed to be here. And I trust my gut. I do. Thank God. But being with you, it’s wonderful, and it’s comfortable, and you just look at me and it makes me feel all warm and tingly.”

“Warm and tingly?” he captured her hand again, bringing her fingertips to his mouth, kissing each one. “Is this something you’ve remembered? Or something that you’ve just sort of stumbled across?”

Langdon sighed, her eyes growing sad. “I suppose stumbled across.” Her eyes flit away, looking anywhere but him. “I wish I could remember all the firsts, all the little things, all the dates, all the nights we’ve spent together…”

“You will,” he said gently. “I know you will. You just need a little more time.”

She cupped his face in her palm, reassured by the look in his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know. And I guess… I don’t know. I just. I like this,” she finished quietly.

He tilted his head to kiss her palm, his eyes closing as she ran her thumb across his lips. When he opened his eyes, he met her gaze with an intense, heated green stare, turning to capture her thumb between his teeth. She smothered a giggle, her cheeks colouring. “You like this, huh?”

She laughed as he released her, his hand playing with a stray lock of her hair. “We um… We haven’t been here before, have we?”

Connor pursed his lips. “Have we been here before? _Here?_ ” he pointed down for emphasis. “As in, here in bed?”

“No,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Here?” he stroked his fingers along her stomach, inching the hem up along her ribs. “As in you laying here, driving me slowly insane, looking sexy, teasing me.” He stooped, his lips tracing a line up her stomach. Langdon sucked in a breath, weaving her fingers into his hair. “Or,” he propped himself back up on his elbow suddenly, raising a brow, “do you mean, have I been playing along with this for the past day without letting you know that we’ve been here before?”

She bit her lip and nodded slowly. “Well?”

“Well?” He bent and pressed his lips to her stomach. Langdon expected a kiss, but instead got a big, wet raspberry.

She shrieked, flailing, and dissolving in a fit of giggles. “Stop! STOP!” she laughed, pushing at his shoulders.

Connor wrapped both arms around her waist, propping his chin between her breasts. He flashed her a devilish grin. “Come on, Laney. Do you really think I’d do that to you?” She shook her head. He turned his head to press a kiss to her t-shirt clad breast. “Good, because I wouldn’t. We haven’t been here before.” He inched up, finding the exposed softness of her neck to kiss. “Well, not here, here,” he hummed against her skin. “But,” he slid a hand under the hem of her shirt. “I have been here before.”

Langdon groaned, her body tingling as his hands warmed her skin. “And you said I was teasing you.” She ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the strands that curled at the base of his neck.

He sighed, the sound rumbling deep in his throat. “You think this is teasing?”

The smile that spread across his face sent a wave of heat through her in a way that had her shifting restlessly under his stare. “W-what do you mean?” her voice sounded husky even in her own ears.

“Don’t move,” Connor growled. He kissed her nose and scrambled off the bed, rummaging in his bag and dousing all but the lamp on the dresser. He returned seconds later, straddling her hips and bending to capture her mouth with his. She sighed, sliding her hands around his shoulders. He pulled back slowly, enjoying the way she clung to him, groaning when she finally had to release him to drop back against the pillow. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

She blinked, startled. “What?”

“Laney,” he brushed a kiss across cheek. “I want to… to do something, but you have to trust me.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you want to do?”

He kissed away the creases on her forehead and propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at her. The expression on his face was tender but serious. “I want to tie you up,” he said softly.

Langdon sucked in a breath, “You, you want to…”

“Tie you to the bed,” he whispered, bracing himself slightly, expecting a sharp reaction from her.

“Why?”

Whatever response she was expecting, his blush wasn’t it. He winced slightly, “Can I just promise that you’ll enjoy it?”

She regarded him carefully, she would never have thought it, but something about the suggestion excited her. Excited and scared. If her hands were tied, she wouldn’t be able to touch him, she wouldn’t be able to kiss him when she wanted, she wouldn’t be able to tease him, but she was damn sure he would be teasing her. He would be able to do whatever he wanted. And she would be vulnerable, absolutely, one hundred percent laid bare. And that was terrifying. And that was exciting. She felt colour creeping into her cheeks as her imagination began to fill in the possibilities.

“I would never hurt you,” he breathed.

Langdon chewed on her lip. He wouldn’t. She knew that. She trusted him. And knowing that was even more exciting. “And how do you know I’ll enjoy it?”

“Because you enjoy being tied up about as much as you enjoy tying me down.” Connor flinched as soon as the words were out of his mouth, as if he couldn’t believe some of things he was saying.

As the implication of his statement sank in, Langdon felt herself quickly turning red. “I tie…” she swallowed, a small thrill running through her at the idea. He was bigger than she was, stronger than she was. If he really wanted to do something, there wasn’t much she could do… unless.

Connor watched the emotions play across Laney’s face with curiosity. “Laney?”

“Ok,” she smiled timidly. “But you’re next.”

He felt the corner of his mouth draw back into his characteristic lopsided grin. His fingers brushed through her hair, running them around her ear to settle at the nape of her neck. “You,” he kissed her, his tongue making a brief foray into her mouth. “Are so amazing,” he finished, nuzzling her cheek.

She murmured her pleasure, pulling him close and digging her fingers into his back as his teeth grazed the soft skin at the base of her neck. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, exposing the shifting planes of his back and shoulders to her palms. The fabric bunched at his armpits as she explored his sides and chest, and with a little coaxing, she managed to push it over his head, letting him strip from the sleeves.

He didn’t want to leave her, not even for the time it took to rid himself of the shirt. His hair, mussed from the struggle with the fabric, was subjected to further disarrangement as her fingers tangled in the dark waves. He groaned. Her touch was like fire. Every little caress was light, teasing, demanding, igniting.

His hands crawled the ladder of her ribs, drawing her shirt up to reveal her pale perfection. Her few, small freckles stood out against the fairness of her breasts and he took the time to kiss each one before removing her shirt completely. Just the sight of her had him achingly hard.

Connor found her mouth, distracting her with teasing kisses, nipping at her lower lip. The sigh that escaped her was like music to his ears and he took advantage of parted lips to delve his tongue into the hot recess of her mouth. His hands found hers, pinning them to the pillow over her head with one large palm. “Connor,” she groaned, her head tilting back as he abandoned her mouth to latch his lips onto a sensitive spot on the underside of her jaw.

Laney melted beneath him. He hit every hot spot she knew of on her neck and three she didn’t. A wave of pleasure crashed through her and she moaned as his hands stroked down her ribs. She shifted to reach for him, surprised to find her wrists securely bound to the headboard with a soft, silk tie. She hadn’t even noticed when he’d done it. He sat back, straddling her hips, appreciating the view. She blinked up at him, flushing under his heated stare. “Connor?”

He grinned, running his index finger along her stomach. She squirmed, biting her lip. “You are so perfect,” he whispered. His finger caught in the elastic waist of her boxers and he tugged on it gently, the light sensation of his grazing finger raising goose bumps across her skin. He ducked down to plant a kiss just above her belly button, sliding his hands into the waistband at the back of her hips and kneading the soft flesh he found there. She moaned in response.

Two sharp knocks sounded at the door and Langdon started, her eyes going wide with surprise. “Mr. Kennedy? Turn down service.” Connor glanced over his shoulder at the door, a sardonic smile masking his irritation. The woman knocked again. “Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy?”

Connor turned back to Langdon. He kissed her nose and regretfully climbed off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere,” he winked.

“Connor!” Langdon whispered sharply. “Come back here!”

He grinned outright. “I’m just going to answer the door. If I don’t, you know she’s going to come in.” He could see the flush spreading from Langdon’s face down her chest as she gave an irritated huff and kicked her heels into the mattress. The movement made her breasts jiggle enticingly and he chuckled.

Outside the door he heard the jingle of keys and thought it best to get to the door before it opened of its own accord. He planted his foot just a few inches from the doorjamb and caught the door against his knee, only allowing it open a few inches. The woman on the other side gave a small gasp of surprise, nearly dropping a large key ring on the floor. “Oh, dearie, you gave me a fright. Would you like me to turn down the bed?”

Connor laughed richly. Clad only in his boxers, his hair was mussed, and he had a guilty flush in his cheeks; it took the woman a moment to process this through the narrow opening of the door, but her expression changed as she realised what was going on. “Thanks, but no,” Connor grinned. “I’ve managed on my own.”

The pleasant older woman gave him a cheery smile and nodded. “Well, have lovely evening then, you two.”

Connor closed the door softly and locked it, flicking off the last lamp before returning to the bed. He reached Langdon’s side, and even in the dark, he could tell she didn’t look pleased. “Oh, come on, Laney,” he stretched out next to her on the bed. “You wouldn’t want someone to walk in on us, would you?”

She rolled her eyes and gave the silk tie a tug. “Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy?”

He grinned and kissed her cheek. “As tempting as it was to stand there in my drawers and argue semantics…” He didn’t need to finish. Langdon knew he was right; she just didn’t want to admit it. He shifted, leaning over her without touching. “Besides, I had better things to do.”

His mouth found hers, softly coaxing a response from her. She didn’t want to give in, but his lips were gentle and persistent. Soon the sensation of his mouth on hers was too much and not enough. She moaned and shifted, trying to find contact, trying to find him. He chuckled against her lips, happy to oblige her. He pulled back to run a single finger along the border of her lower lip.

Langdon sighed as his hand travelled, fingers tracing the line of her jaw, gliding down her neck, and flattening out to pause in the valley between her breasts. His head bent, lips brushing hers, and he whispered, “Close your eyes.” He kissed her softly, his hand moving to cup the weight of her breast in his palm.

She whimpered; her eyes fluttered closed as he deepened the kiss, his thumb feathering over her nipple until it was painfully taut. His tongue swept through her mouth and she tried to capture it as his hand switched to her other breast, drawing idle circles around the dark pink tip until she groaned. His mouth left hers to find the sensitised peak his fingers had recently abandoned, his tongue flicking across her nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

Her breath caught as she tugged on the bindings, wanting her hands free. Connor tilted his face toward hers, raising a brow at her predicament. “Connor, please,” she ground out.

“I do please,” he murmured, kissing a path to her other breast, satisfied to give it the same treatment as the other one, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip.

She whimpered and arched against his mouth. “Please.”

“Please what?” he whispered against her skin.

His teeth grazed her nipple and it sent shards of pleasure shooting deep into her core. “Lower,” she groaned.

“Anything you want,” he purred. His lips slowly worked their way down her stomach, kissing, nipping, licking, teasing her skin as it heated beneath his mouth. He paid particular attention to the slight indentations inside her hipbones as his fingers snagged the elastic of her boxers and panties together and slid them down her legs. He sat back to tug the last of the clothing from her body then his before turning his attention to her foot.

He pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot, massaging the tendons, then kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her arch. “Is this low enough?” he asked with a chuckle. She groaned, the sharp comeback dying on the tip of her tongue as his mouth moved slowly higher, along the inside of her calf. His hands preceded his lips, tracing small whorls while gently nudging her legs apart. 

Langdon was almost embarrassed at how quickly she lifted her hips to his touch when his fingers stroked through her folds. Almost. His thumb grazed her clit and it sent a shiver through her body. He locked eyes with her, sliding his finger inside her. He bit back a groan at the sensation; she was warm, wet, and welcoming, her slick muscles closing around his finger. He drew out slowly sliding a second finger in with the first, watching as Laney’s eyelids fluttered shut and her head dropped back against the pillow. God, she was beautiful. He had to stomp down on the urge to plunge into her there and then. A mew of disappointment escaped her lips as he pulled his hand away.

He bent and laid gentle kisses along her inner thigh, inching upward, his tongue peeking out to flick along the crease where her hip met her soft stomach. He hooked his arms under her thighs and lifted her hips from the bed. The ease with which he lifted her left Langdon with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. He was so gentle with her, but it was always with an undercurrent of restrained strength that sent a shiver of awareness through her.

At first, his lips only brushed against her with a frustrating subtlety and she squirmed, the light sensations zinging along her nerves, straining for a firmer touch. Langdon gasped as his tongue suddenly swept through her heated flesh, her hips bucking involuntarily. He traced a path from her entrance to her clit, pausing to give due attention to the sensitive bundle of nerves. He repeated the motion, his tongue dipping inside of her this time.

Langdon could feel her orgasm building, the muscles in her body tightening in response to the maddeningly slow rhythm he had found. The small cries that escaped her lips drove him on, his tongue sliding inside her only to retreat to tease her clit again and again. A thin sheen of sweat coated her skin, glistening in the silvery light filtering from the window. His teeth nipped at her clit and she was crying out. Her body shuddered, clenching and writhing in his grasp.

Connor couldn’t wait any longer. He settled quickly between her spread thighs and thrust into her in one swift motion. She gasped, her eyes flying open, the sensation of him filling her almost sending her over the edge again. A sound halfway between a sigh and a growl rumbled low in Connor’s chest, his eyelids fluttering in a sign of his pleasure. He held himself still, calming his breathing before fixing his gaze on her face.

The heat from his stare alone set her blood boiling. He smiled sweetly, bending to brush a light kiss across her lips. “I love you,” he whispered. The intimacy of their position with the raw honesty of his admission had her heart swelling with emotion. All she wanted to do was respond in kind, but she couldn’t find her voice and, to her horror, she felt tears spring to her eyes.

Connor studied her face, a smile slowly spreading into a broad grin. “God, Laney,” he half laughed. “You’re going to kill me.” He captured her mouth with his, his lips hungry against hers, eager and insistent. Her squeak of surprise melted into a sigh as he kissed her until she was breathless. She shifted beneath him, his stillness within her becoming torture, and used her thighs to hold him to her.

He groaned low in his throat and thrust into her fully, her body shuddering and tightening around him. He began a slow, lazy pace, pulling almost completely from her before thrusting back in. His mouth paid homage to her breasts, shoulders, and neck before meeting her own, heat blossoming from every touch. The sweet friction that built between them had Langdon gasping for breath and eagerly raising her hips to meet him. She arched against him and the sensation was devastating to his self-control.

Without thinking, Connor tugged the tie free of the headboard, and grasped her hips, his thrusts becoming heavier, surer, deeper, and more demanding. Langdon wove her fingers into the dark waves of his hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers, kissing him with all the ferocity of the feelings he wrought within her.

The heat of her mouth and insistent play of her hands through his hair, across his shoulders, and down his back sent a shudder through his body. Instinct had him slamming into her, seeking to drive deeper than before. He wanted to lose himself in her. Her soft cries rose to moans of pleasure and his body tightened in response. She owned him in every way possible and she didn’t even know. It was terrifying and wonderful and arousing on the most primitive level.

Her body tensed, her nails digging into the skin on the back of his shoulders, the pinpricks of pain overwhelmed by the fluttering of her muscles around him. She cried out, screaming his name. He claimed her mouth cutting off a series of cuss words that followed his name with a devastating kiss. Smothering his own yell in the heat of her mouth as his own powerful orgasm erupted.

Connor struggled to keep himself from completely collapsing on top of her, dropping onto his side, and pulling her against his chest. They were both breathing heavily, sweat coating their bodies, hearts gradually dropping back to a normal rhythm. He managed a strangled laugh and reached a shaking hand to brush a wayward strand of hair from her cheek.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded when she raised them to meet his gaze. A contented smile spread across her face, her hands sliding up his chest to rest against his shoulders. “Tomorrow, you’ll have to explain why you laughed at me.”

He snorted and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Tomorrow?”

She yawned and nodded, nudging him over onto his back. “Tomorrow.” She pillowed her head on his chest, turning to press a kiss to the expanse of bare skin before settling. “That way, if I’m mad, I’ll have the energy to hit you.”

He chuckled and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders, running his fingers idly through her hair. “That doesn’t sound good for me,” he murmured.

She sighed in a way that reminded him of a cat purring, her eyes closing. She wanted to stay awake, she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to kiss him more, but her body was so lax, and her brain seemed happily empty. She was half aware of his breathing slowing when his hand stilled. “I love you, Connor,” she whispered, letting sleep claim her tired mind.

Connor held his breath, not entirely sure he had heard her. A wave of joy and smug pride washed through him. He had been waiting to hear her say that, say that on her own without prompting, say it and mean it. She never liked to say ‘I love you too,’ said it was trite. Her hesitation earlier left him hoping, and now, content to hold her for the rest of the night, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

 

~o~

 

Langdon raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked at the fort walls from inside the ring fort. The view off of the Dun Beg cliffs at the Promontory fort was amazing, and the fort itself was one of the more dramatic archaeological sites she had visited since she came to Ireland. They had started their hike early in the morning in hopes of beating any tourist crowd to the site, and with the sun still peaking over Mount Eagle on the east horizon, Langdon was fairly sure they’d have the place to themselves for a few hours.

Connor easily hurdled the ringed wall to take in the view of Dingle Bay from the cliff face, turning back to give her a broad grin. “Hey, Laney, what do you think of getting few pictures from here?” He swept his arms wide, backing toward the small wire fence that served as the last barrier between wandering tourists and the breathtaking vertical drop to the sea over a hundred feet below.

Langdon giggled. He was such a kid when they were off travelling. “Tell you what, I’ll get a picture of you then we can try to set the timer to get one of both of us.”

He nodded and struck a cheesy pose when she pulled out her camera. She held her laughter long enough to snap a steady picture and slipped off her pack, using it to prop up the camera on the wall. She pushed the button and scrambled over the wall to his side. “How long do we have?” he asked through a smile.

She shrugged. “I just listen for the beeps. There’s a blinking light too, but it’ll beep to warn you when you have like three seconds.”

“Oh,” he wrapped his arm around her waist and squinted at the camera, listening for the quiet beeps. As soon as he heard them, he pulled her close, tilting her back over his arm, and kissed her dramatically. He heard the camera click and chuckled against her lips.

She pushed back against his chest and peered up at him. “That better not have ruined my picture, buster.”

He laughed again and released her. “I’ll make sure, then let me get a shot of you out here.” He snagged the camera as he passed, hopping the stone wall as he checked the previous pictures. “They look great!” he shouted over his shoulder before turning to get a picture of her.

 

~o~

 

Paul grumbled from his hiding spot behind the low wall. Of course they had to pick a site like this that was so open. He groused at the horseplay and frowned with distaste as Connor kissed Lang again. Did that guy ever keep his hands to himself? He watched Connor pick up the camera and climb back over the wall. He was only about ten feet away now, and the furthest he’d seen Connor from Lang all morning. Paul clenched his jaw, now was as good a time as any.

 

~o~

 

Langdon squinted into the sun, only able to see Connor’s outline in the bright morning glare. Something about his stance told her that he holding the camera up. “Hey, gorgeous!” he called. “Show me that sexy smile!”

She couldn’t help but to laugh and she gave her best ridiculous pose, grinning for the camera.

“On three,” he held up a hand with three fingers raised, dropping them as he counted down. “Three… two…”

Langdon squinted, movement from behind Connor catching her eye. Her smile faded as she saw a figure loom behind him. Even with the sound of the surf rising from the base of the cliffs behind her, she could hear the sickening sound of something hard smashing into Connor’s skull, and he crumpled bonelessly to the ground. Langdon screamed.

 

~o~

 

Paul grinned broadly at the sight of blood on the rock as he dropped it into the grass next to Connor’s prone body. The idiot hadn’t even heard him coming. If he managed to take care of Lang quickly, he might even get two for the price of one. His head shot up at the sound of Langdon’s scream. Fucking bitch would wake the natives. She locked eyes with him for a fraction of a second and took off at a dead sprint. With a snarl, he leapt over the wall and chased after her.

 

~o~

 

Langdon froze. She saw Connor fall and she saw the horrifying smile on Paul’s face. She couldn’t seem to move, but she screamed. And when he raised his eyes and glared at her, Langdon felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. He was insane. She ran.

With out consideration for where she was going, Langdon took off in a sprint. The sheer cliff face just to her right, she kept the wall of the fort to her left. Ahead, she could make out the most inland wall of the fort with open air beyond it. There were open fields, the road and a cluster of farmhouses close enough to see, but too far to yell to for help. She screamed anyway.

“Goddamnit!” Paul snarled, both startled and infuriated by her speed. “Get back here you bitch.”

Langdon choked back a sob, desperate to put anything between herself and Paul. She scrambled over the wire fence that separated the fort from the sheer cliffs, using one of the pickets for leverage. She sucked in a deep breath, readying another scream.

She was faster than he was, and Paul’s temper raged. He yanked the semi-automatic from the waistband at the small of his back and aimed without breaking stride, rapidly squeezing off two rounds.

A bullet exploded in the wooden post immediately to her left and her scream caught in her throat as she gasped, her body flinching reflexively. She ducked her head as the sound of another shot echoed over the roar of the surf. Stumbling slightly, Langdon chanced a glance over her shoulder. Paul wasn’t far enough behind her.

She felt the ground give under her right foot and her weight pitched sideways. She choked back a scream as her left knee bounced off the ground, her right side swung into free air, and she twisted to catch herself from the sheer drop. Langdon’s fingers dug into the grass as her body knocked into the jagged rocks of the cliff face.

Her feet flailed, struggling to find hold and managing to brace against a narrow, stable outcropping. She planted both forearms on the grass and pulled her head up over the verge only to see Paul rushing toward her, the gun levelled at her head. She glanced down, swallowing hard as a wave of nausea turned her stomach. Mistake! she thought. You never look down! The combination of dew on the grass and sweat from her palms built and her hands began to slip.

Langdon’s head shot up, her eyes wild and desperate as both hands slid through the damp grass. “No!” she cried, her fingers clenching into claws, digging at the ground and unable to find purchase.  Her legs weren’t stable enough to hold her up and she slid over the edge and dropped from sight.

Paul watched the panicked look on her face and laughed to himself as he saw her fall. People should know that cliffs are dangerous. It’s all these dumb American tourists that don’t obey the posted rules. Such a shame. At least now he didn’t have to cover anything up. No one would suspect him of foul play, because there was none - just a clumsy girl who took one wrong step on the uneven rocky ground.

Langdon thought her heart stopped as she fell, she couldn’t even find the breath to scream. Her boots smashed into a slate ledge and her knees gave out, dropping her roughly onto her back. She felt the air rush from her lungs and the back of her head smacked against the flat rock. She gasped, her vision swimming as she blinked at the twenty feet between herself and the grassy lip overhead.

It took her a moment to realise that she wasn’t dead, and another moment to suck some air back into her empty lungs and understand that she’d broken her fall on a narrow ledge. She was alive, but damned if she could move.

Paul slipped the safety back onto the pistol, and approached the edge. He didn’t relish the idea of seeing her broken body, but needed to be sure all the same.


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some proper closure...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... this is it. This is what I used to write a few years ago... I'm not going to apologize for it and I hope you've enjoyed!  
> ~ ewebie

She swallowed down the urge to retch, forcing herself to roll onto her side and away from the edge. Her head felt like it was going to split open, every movement sending lancing waves of pain through her body. Langdon blinked furiously, trying to shake the black spots from her vision. It took her a moment to realize that some of the persistent black spots were actually gaping holes in the layers of slate. She winced as she struggled to her hands and knees, then feet, stumbling into the dark shelter and collapsing against the wall.

Paul toed the edge of the cliff, making sure the rocks were solid before peering over the edge. Heights made him dizzy and he had to brace himself to keep from swaying. He stretched his head forward, leaning carefully. He didn’t see her. He dropped to his hands and knees, risking leaning further over the edge. Nothing.

He frowned and bent as far forward as he dared, studying the rocks and surf at the base of the cliff. Still nothing. It didn’t make sense. The water wasn’t deep enough here to pull a body under. Muttering under his breath, Paul stood and headed toward the farms, hoping to get a better view from the other side of the ledge.

 

In the shelter of the cavern, Langdon pressed her hands to her temples. The sensation of the ground pitching beneath her had her head spinning and stomach lurching, and she dropped heavily to her hands and knees.

_A metallic thud had her head snapping up and she squinted into the darkness from behind a large filing cabinet, quickly gathering the papers that spilled from the dropped chart. The whispering voices stopped suddenly, and Langdon scrambled back into the dark shadow of the cabinet._

_“I thought you said no one else would be down here!” hissed a deep, angry voice._

_“There isn’t!” another replied sharply. Langdon’s brow furrowed as she recognised the second voice. Paul? What is he doing down here so late? “No one comes down here. This is an old building; it’s always creaking like that.”_

_Langdon held her breath as they passed near her hiding space, trying to make herself as small as possible. She jumped as the door slammed, staying hidden long enough to calm her breathing. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, but she had the distinct impression that she wasn’t supposed to know._

_As the dark and quiet started to weigh on her nerves, she inched out from behind the cabinet and crept toward the door. She slipped through the door into the silent hallway and moved toward the stairs. Light filtered through the last autopsy room window, and Langdon risked peeking around the edge of the frame._

_What were they doing? She furrowed her brow, it was awfully late for a post-mortem, and shouldn’t one of the consultants be here for it? Paul seemed absorbed in his work, the other man out of her line of sight, but was fiddling with something metallic in the corner from the sounds she heard. And the tubs of formalin, they already had organs in them… Her eyes grew wide as she watched Paul remove the heart and place it in an open cooler. A cooler? A transplant cooler? The truth struck her hard and she felt her stomach drop. This was bad, very bad._

_She must have made a noise of shock, because Paul’s head shot up to glare out the window. Langdon snapped her head back and pressed against the wall, but she knew it was too late. She could hear the exchange of voices, but didn’t wait to hear what they said. She took off at a run. She had to find Connor. He’d know what to do. As the door to the pathology wing swung shut behind her, she heard Paul shouting her name, his tone sending a shiver down her spine._

Langdon shuddered and the sound of the surf and clattering rocks brought her back to her senses. Her body was trembling from the waves of vivid memories crashing through her mind. It was almost overwhelming, as if she was being pulled between two different realities at once.

 

~o~

 

Paul eyed the short drop to the strange, rocky flat. It looked stable enough, though the gravelly slope at the bottom of the drop didn’t look too promising. He slid his gun into the waistband of his pants, squatted down, and swung his legs over the edge. With a small shift, he dropped to the sloped ground below.

His feet skittered through the gravel and he fell ungracefully onto his rear. Cursing, he clambered from the gravel onto the smooth plateau of slate. His movement sent a cascade of lose rocks down the incline and clattering noisily to the water far below. Taking a moment to gain his bearings, he peered over the edge, hoping to catch a glimpse of Langdon down in the surf. She wasn’t there, which meant she was somewhere up here.

He drew his gun and flicked the safety off. “Langdon,” he called softly. “I know you’re here. Come out, come out wherever you are.” She couldn’t have made the drop safely from the distance she fell. It was nearly twenty feet to the verge where he was now standing.

“Laney?”

Paul’s head shot up, squinting at overhang as he cursed under his breath. There was no way Connor could be up and on his feet, Paul thought. The voice had come from near the fort, and it sounded weak. Weak and desperate, Paul thought. He still had time. “Langdon!” he barked, his voice echoing off the sheer stone cliff faces. His temper was wearing thin.

 

~o~

 

_Langdon ran. She could feel her lungs burning from the shortness of breath and cold, the metallic taste of adrenaline and fear filling her mouth. She kept running. She could hear feet pounding on the pavement behind her and didn’t dare look back. She had seen Paul’s car catching up to the bus as it was nearing the quays, and she didn’t think he had a nice chat on his mind. She had abandoned the bus at the last minute, telling the driver that her violent ex-boyfriend was following her. She had hoped to lose him in the traffic, but there was someone else in the car. Now she was being chased and her heart was pounding in her chest so loud that she thought it would burst. As she cleared the alleyway, she flew out on to the quay, dodging traffic to reach the bridge. Somehow she knew if she could make it to the other side of the river, it would be ok._

_The Millennium Bridge was just ahead and she winced as her heels hit the rough metal grating, losing traction for a moment on the icy surface. Damn female fashion trends, if she’d only been wearing her trainers today. She hoped the dark would make her hard to see, her black coat over black pants would blend into the shadows once she was over the bridge and in Temple Bar. A loud metallic ping sounded from nearby and she flinched, it was a shot, and it had come close to hitting her. Her muscles were burning, but she ran harder. It was less than 200 yards to the South side and to Connor, and to the Gardai, and what she prayed was safety. If she had to, she’d go to the embassy for protection._

_The usual pedestrian traffic on the streets was lighter due to the cold, but Langdon was still dodging people. Then Paul was in front of her. Forgetting the man on her tail, she tried to stop and change directions, skidding on the icy surface. She knew she was in trouble as her momentum carried her right into Paul, and she drew up her arms, ready to fight against his hold. But then she was airborne._

_He had dropped his shoulder at the last second and sent her over the railing. Her body flipped through the air and she saw sky and river in one breath. She screamed. She flailed her arms in a desperate attempt to catch the bridge. Her fingers clutched at the slick edge of the bridge, her body jerking roughly as she momentarily stopped her descent. Another pinging noise and pain shot through her right shoulder, a bullet grazing her arm and digging a deep furrow into her skin. Another stab of pain as a large boot came down on her hand. Paul ground his boot down, and she gasped. Then her fingers slipped, unable to keep purchase in the metal. She screamed again as she fell, the ice rushing toward her and Paul disappeared, melting into the stunned crowd. The last thing she heard was Connor yelling her name, “Laney!”_

 She bit back a scream of shock as the ghost of chilling cold washed through her again. She remembered. She remembered everything. She squinted into the dark as her shivers subsided. From closer than she wished, Paul’s voice muttered and cursed. Langdon’s entire body grew tense. Her fear was quickly eclipsed by a wave of pure anger. Paul was the one that had thrown her from the bridge. Paul was the one that had pushed her into traffic. Paul had stood in her home and feigned concern for her well-being. He interrupted her at work, he followed them out here, he struck Connor, he had shot at her… He SHOT at her. Then there was Connor. She wanted to get back to him; she needed to know that he was all right. Langdon clenched her hands into fists and crouched near the opening of the small cave, waiting for an opportunity. She didn’t have to wait long.

She watched as Paul crept by, his foot stepping inches from her. Langdon held her breath, watching the weight-shift change the muscles that flexed within his leg. When all the weight was on the inside foot, Langdon lashed out. Her hiking boot connected solidly with the outside of his knee and with a harsh pop, she felt it give. Paul howled his pain and anger as he collapsed down onto hands and knees, the gun clattering across the slate and over the edge, splashing into the water below.

As he thudded to the rock, Langdon sprang up, dashing along the thin ledge toward the rocky slope. Her boots hit the loose gravel and she scrambled, digging her fingers into the steep, fragmented slate and making what seemed like horrifyingly slow progress.

An angry snarl was the only warning she had; Paul launched himself at her. A strangled cry escaped her as he caught her thigh and back waistband of her pants and jerked her backwards. The gravel gave way beneath her boots and she slipped, the corners of the rocks digging into her arms and knees. She gasped as he flipped her easily onto her back and pinned her beneath him.

She screamed and every other shred of energy went into fighting him. Her fingers curled into claws and she gouged his face, aiming for his eyes. He roared in response, giving up on catching her hands and striking her sharply with the back of his hand. Her scream choked off with the blow and a wave of nausea clenched at her stomach. Langdon’s cheek burned from the slap, but after a moment it was lost in the streams of pain registering from every bone in her body. Then his hand closed around her throat.

Langdon gasped as the pressure increased, managing to draw in a small, hasty breath before her air was cut off completely. Her eyes went wide and she clawed at his hand as the second wrapped over the first. Spots clouded her vision, and she knew she didn’t have much time. Her legs kicked out, flailing uselessly where he straddled her hips. Langdon grabbed his thumb and pulled back with all her might.

Paul snarled, the sudden pain had caused him to lose his grip momentarily, and she had managed to get some air in the process. Why wouldn’t she just die? She had lost. Death was inevitable. Couldn’t she take her defeat gracefully? He snatched the hand that had caused his pain and pinned it to the rocks, shifting his position to grab the other hand.

It took all of her control to relax her body and conserve energy and air, but Langdon let herself go lax as Paul shifted. When he was distracted, trying to catch her free hand, she drew her knee up sharply, landing a lucky blow right in his groin. He released her suddenly, rolling to the side to cradle his throbbing flesh.

Langdon sucked in air, filling her burning lungs and letting the subsequent wave of numbness wash through her. Her vision went black momentarily, returning slowly, reluctant to remain steady. Paul groaned and tried to shift onto his hands and one good knee. In his effort to right himself, a large chunk of rock kicked loose, sliding off the edge and dragging a stream of gravel with it.

The miniature avalanche knocked Paul back to the ground and he flailed, grabbing at anything he could reach to keep from slipping over the lip of the cliff with the rest of the stones. He snagged Langdon’s ankle as he slid down the slope. Her throat still raw, Langdon couldn’t find the breath to scream, but the sudden lurch of Paul’s weight sent her sliding down the slope along with him.

Her arms shot out, digging into the moving ground, catching one of the larger, stable boulders and jerking her to a stop. Pain lanced through her shoulders as they halted her momentum. Paul’s grip on her leg tightened in panic as his lower body dropped over the edge of the cliff, and he scrambled to shift his grip higher to her calf.

Langdon bit back a yelp as her leg twisted painfully under the strain of Paul’s weight, and dug the heel of her free leg into the ground. She quickly sought and found purchase to ease the strain on her shoulders, and she groaned with the effort as she inched herself back from the edge ever so slightly, towing Paul back toward solid ground.

Paul flailed, kicking his feet into the cliff face, unable to find a foothold, his movement erratically shifting his weight. “No!” Langdon shouted, feeling his hands slip. He caught Langdon’s ankle for a moment before failing all together as his hands slipped from her cargo pants and he disappeared from sight.

The scream that echoed up the cliff walls made her gut clench. The sound cut off abruptly and Langdon choked out a sob. She trembled from head to toe, the toll on her body and mind threatening to overwhelm her. Every movement hurt, but she didn’t fancy lying on the unstable rocks any longer. With a small whimper, she shifted onto her side, releasing one rock to flip onto her stomach. Climbing was slow going as she carefully picked new handholds and tested the ground where she planted her feet. Her muscles shook with the effort as she inched up the slope.

Digging her fingers into the grass was both a relief and horrifying. Her strength all but gone, she didn’t think she’d be able to make it up the remaining vertical six-feet to the solid, flat earth above. Finding a place for one boot, she grunted and pulled herself flush against the rock, dragging her second leg off the ground as her arms began shaking violently. Trying to use her legs, she managed to plant a forearm on the grass. The simple contact with the soft, cool, damp ground was a soothing balm for her battered state of mind. She gasped as strong hands reached under her arms and hauled her the final few feet to safety.

Langdon collapsed on top of her saviour, wrapping her fingers in his jacket, clinging to him even as her body dissolved into a fit tremors. Connor released a sigh of relief, struggling to sit up under her dead weight and cradling her carefully to his chest. She let her body go lax. She could feel the bruises settling, the numerous scrapes and abrasions cooling as their bleeding slowed, and her leg throbbed from the punishment of supporting her weight and Paul’s. The thought of Paul sent a shudder through her, and tears she didn’t know she had began to spill between her lashes.

Then Connor’s arms were around her, his heartbeat constant and strong where she pressed her ear to his chest, and he was warm. The heat spread through her, soothing, calming, and comforting. He held her as tightly as he dared, aware of some of the punishment she had just survived.

The faint sound of a siren reached her ears, but she pressed her eyes closed and buried her face against his shoulder. He whispered to her, rocking her in his arms. She was safe. Langdon couldn’t fight the fatigue, and before the sirens could grow loud enough to be more than a distant hum, she slipped into unconsciousness.

 

~o~

 

Connor scowled at the nurse as she left the room. All he had wanted to do was sit by Laney’s bedside, and that woman put up a fuss. He’d had to find Eamonn and get the ‘Doctor’s’ permission to be out of bed and to disturb another patient. Once she was gone, he began to relax. His head didn’t hurt too much, in spite of the fact that Eamonn had insisted on putting in a few stitches and running a CT to be sure all was still where it belonged in his brain. Now, he just wanted to stay with Laney until she woke up.

Eamonn closed the door softly behind him when he came into the room, and Connor couldn’t keep from frowning. “If you even think about telling me to go back to my room, so help me, Eamo,” he warned.

Eamonn smiled, “Don’t worry Connor, I just came to check on her. How’s your head?”

Connor shrugged non-committaly. “I think I’ve been slapped harder by Laney.” He couldn’t keep from letting a smile touch his lips. “How’s she doing?”

“She took another nasty knock on the head.” Eamonn flipped through her chart out of habit. He knew everything in it, because he’d penned it himself. “Look, all the bruises and abrasions are superficial. They’ll hurt like hell, and a few of them will keep opening and bleeding, like the ones on her knuckles. But other than that, it’s all about how bad that bump on her head is.” Eamonn shifted nervously. “And how much the events are stressing out her mind. I’m not trying to scare you, I just know how hard it has been these past few weeks.”

“She’s tough, Eamo. She’ll fight through it,” Connor whispered. He leaned forward and slid hand under hers, carefully running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. “You know, she remembered most of it already? She’ll be fine.”

Eamonn dropped a hand on Connor’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I know.” He replaced the chart and headed for the door. “When she wakes up, bleep me? I’ll be around the wards, and there’s an Inspector that’s waiting to talk to her as well.” Connor nodded, his eyes carefully assessing the cuts on Langdon’s hand as it lay in his. Eamonn sighed and took his leave.

Connor had a mercifully short wait for Langdon to wake. She grunted, her fingers closing around his. He cupped her cheek as she struggled to open her eyes, whispering encouragement and watching her face as a new flush coloured her face. She groaned and squinted, trying to bring his face into focus. “Connor?”

“Hey, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Welcome back.”

She furrowed her brow and blinked, taking in the surroundings. “Where?” she paused. “How did I get here?” The look of panic in Connor’s eyes had Langdon clearing her throat to find her voice quickly. “We were in Dingle. I don’t…” She chewed on her lip.

A large sigh of relief escaped him. “Don’t scare me like that,” he whispered, covering her lips with his, gently kissing her until her head was spinning.

When he released her, she let out a contented sigh, “Mmmn, hi.”

He chuckled, “Hello to you too.” His fingers brushed across her cheek, tucking hair behind her ear. “How do you feel?”

She shifted carefully, trying to get a feel for the state she was in. “I have a headache that would put a sledgehammer to shame, and I’m sore just about everywhere. Other than that…”

“Other than that?” he asked hopefully.

She gave his hand a squeeze. “If you can just explain how we got from Dingle to Dublin, I’ll be ok.”

“Helicopter, actually.” He sat back in the chair, keeping her hand carefully within his. “The Gardai weren’t far behind us, and arrived a few minutes after I pulled you back up onto the grass. The Inspector in charge had you rushed here, and I decided to bum along for the ride.”

Langdon tugged her hand free and pushed herself up into a sitting position, grimacing as she felt the stretch of skin over bruises. She waved off his help, but sighed gratefully when he slid onto the bed beside her and allowed her to use his chest as a backrest. Settled and comfortable, she watched as his fingers ran gingerly along her knuckles. “How’s your head?”

He kissed her neck, barely able to keep from stiffening at the sight of the bruises that wrapped around her throat. “I’ve a thick skull and Eamonn says there’s nothing but hollow space in there anyway.”

She chuckled. “So when can I go home?” she asked softly.

“I have to bleep Eamonn, he’s running your discharge. And the Inspector wants to speak with you about what happened.”

Langdon’s hand clenched his, “It was self-defence. He would have killed me.”

The fear that crept into her voice had him shushing her gently. “I know, Laney, I know. And I think he knows as well. I think he just needs your statement.”

 

~o~

 

Langdon sighed contentedly, the warm bath soothing the aching muscles in her back and shoulders. Connor was going to spoil her rotten. She started when his hands settled on her upper arms, but relaxed quickly as he lathered soap between his palms and began to massage the suds into her skin. “Connor,” she sighed. “That feels fantastic.”

He kissed her temple as he settled on the floor beside the tub. “If you’re too sore, or if there’s a bruise, let me know. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She chuckled. “This is so far from hurting.” His hands were gentle as he proceeded to wash her entire body, teasing as he went. She nearly growled with frustration as he kept skirting the few places she desperately wanted to feel his touch.

He was being careful with her again, this time physically rather than emotionally, but it was slowly driving her insane. She had been home for nearly a week, and she knew that part of his hesitancy grew from the remnants of bruises that still liberally decorated her pale skin. They looked nasty, but no longer hurt. The ones on her throat in particular were a constant reminder of how dangerous that final encounter had been. She could understand his reaction, she could even forgive him the torturous neglect.

But enough was enough. He was in for it tonight. Just as soon as she was out of this bath, there was nothing that would keep her from jumping him. His hands left her skin to weave into her hair, and she groaned as he massaged the shampoo into her scalp: nothing except maybe this. By the time he was satisfied that she was clean, she was so relaxed and sleepy that she could barely stand. He dried her with a large fluffy towel and carried her to bed. Pulling her back up against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her, folding her into the warmth and protection of the curve of his body. He feathered kisses along her shoulders before tugging the blankets up to her chin. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, nuzzling the back of her neck.

He couldn’t quite hear what it was she mumbled, but he understood the gist of it. Her tone was joking and threatening and content and she was going to punish him for teasing her so. He rested his palm on the flat of her stomach, holding her firmly against him. He knew she was still healing, but it was all he could do to keep from taking her then and there.

 

~o~

 

Inspector Hynes sat at his desk and contemplated the report he was about to sign. The young doctor had been as cooperative as her energy level had allowed. She had recounted what she now remembered discovering in the pathology lab a few weeks earlier, how the now deceased Mr. Cavatoni had thrown her from the bridge, how he had threatened her, pushed her into on-coming traffic, and ultimately followed her to Dingle. His only regret was the lack of id on Cavatoni’s business partners. She had mentioned another man, but had no information, no physical description, no vehicle, no name. And while she did say she might recognise the voice should she hear it again, he seriously doubted such an occasion would arise.

There was little chance that whomever had been working with Cavatoni would return to threaten the young couple. But just to be safe, Hynes had left a detail on the pair for the next two weeks. Then again, the fiercely protective nature of her boyfriend seemed almost protection enough for the young woman. He had watched the young man struggle to keep his emotions contained as Ms. Murphy had recounted her fight with Cavatoni, sending a silent but definitive message to let her alone about describing the ultimate fall that killed Cavatoni.

Hynes managed to speak with her alone for a matter of minutes when the gentleman had stepped out to find her a glass of water. There was little left he needed to complete his report, so he inquired after her well-being. She had wryly told him that once the bruises were healed, she’d be as good as new. And with regard to her memory, he had only gotten the reassurance that everything was as it should be and a cryptic smile that made him wish he were twenty years younger.

When Mr. Kennedy returned, Hynes had thanked them both for their time, and though he assured them it was unlikely to be necessary, he would call in on them if he had further questions. In parting, he did say that if she ever found herself dissatisfied with her current profession or relationship to give him a call. He had closed the door to the wonderful sound of her laughter.

Hynes looked at the final page of the report. Death was ruled accidental, there’d be no charges brought against Ms. Murphy. From the sound of it, the embassy was covering a good portion of the medical bills in return for her testimony against Cavatoni, and her employers had approved another two weeks of paid leave as she recovered from her injuries.

He signed at the bottom of the report and closed the file, dropping it on the rather short stack of reports headed to his boss and glared at the ever-growing pile of new cases. With a sigh, he pulled the next file open. Grumbling, he spread the notes out across his desk and settled in for another long night of work.

 

~o~

 

“Connor?” she whispered playfully.

“Hm?” he asked, satisfied to keep his eyes closed. It was too early in the morning to actually wake up.

She shifted, draping herself across his chest and nuzzling the underside of his chin. “You know what today is?”

“It’s Thursday, and it’s early,” he growled.

She laughed against his neck and kissed his jaw line. “It’s 4am. And it’s the 14th of February.”

He sighed, her gentle caresses waking him up in more ways than one. “So?”

“I thought we could celebrate,” she kissed his temple and slid her hands up his arms, pinning his wrists to the bed.

“You don’t like Valentine’s day,” he groaned.

“Not Valentine’s day,” she cooed, drawing his earlobe between her teeth. She was rewarded by the sound of a sharp intake a breath.

“Then what would we be celebrating?” he panted, almost afraid to open his eyes and find himself dreaming.

The sound of a metallic closure reached his ears and his eyes shot open. He tugged on his arms, finding them securely handcuffed to the headboard. Langdon grinned wickedly before planting a kiss firmly on his lips. “The fact that I woke up and remembered exactly where I hid those handcuffs.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You remembered…” Langdon ran her fingertips along his chest, teasing his skin playfully. He shivered slightly, unsure if it was in hope or anticipation. “How much do you remember?”

Her lips closed over a particularly sensitive area of skin just behind his earlobe and Connor exhaled sharply. “Everything,” she whispered huskily. All rational thought fled his mind as the tip of her tongue traced the curves of his ear. “And I do believe I owe you.”


End file.
